A Leap to Safety
by Marcus S. Lazarus
Summary: Faced with a choice of fighting or fleeing from his attackers in Ireland, Peter finds himself in a room on the other side of the world, where a familiar blond girl helps him to find himself even as she seeks to determine her own nature -Paire Season 2 AU-
1. Flight, Not Fight

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Updates on this may not be that frequent, but I wanted to get this up before the next series begins and I need to start accommodating its plotlines in here, so I hope you like what I've done so far; work will begin in earnest once I've completed my other Paire AU 'Seeds of the Future', with maybe a chapter or two up before that

AN 2: This begins at the very end of "Four Months Later…" when Peter is discovered by Ricky and the others in the box, but rapidly diverges into AU from that point onwards

A Leap to Safety

As he blinked his eyes open, he only registered three things about his surroundings.

Firstly, he was dressed only in a pair of trousers and a necklace of some sort was hanging around his neck.

Secondly, he was currently chained in a box for reasons that he couldn't remember.

Thirdly, three men were currently looking at him in a manner that made it clear that they didn't have his best interests at heart, holding torches and standing at a large square opening. He could vaguely make out rain and a few other metal boxes that looked like the one he was currently in behind them, but the men currently dominated his vision.

"What's that?" one of them said, breaking into his train of thought. It was only then that he realised that they'd been speaking for a while now; actually, he was fairly certain that it was hearing their voices that had woken him up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" one of them said, a distinct accent to his voice that he was sure he should recognise but couldn't immediately identify, as the three of them walked closer to him. "Where are the iPods?"

"You heard the man!" another of the men yelled at him, as he shifted his position to look at the new arrivals more effectively. "How did yous get in here?"

As he looked at the men before him in shock, his mind desperately raced to try and recall what had happened to put him in this position…

Only to realise that he couldn't.

He had no idea where he was, he had no idea what had happened to him, and he was currently being confronted by three men who had just as little idea about the situation as he did and were clearly less interested in simply talking about the situation,

_Whatever put me in this position_, he thought to himself as he tried to fight through his current panic to come up with a plan of some kind, _is it too much to hope that it'll get me out of it as well... preferably _before _something bad happens_?

"Maybe _this'll _jog your memory!" a third man said, stepping forward from behind the other two with a baseball bat in his hand.

As the man advanced towards him, clearly preparing to attack him with the bat, all he could do at that moment was wish more than anything that he was somewhere, _anywhere_, other than here…

* * *

Then, after no more time than it took for him to blink, he was no longer inside the metal box. Instead he was sprawled on the floor of a comfortable-looking room, the walls and the bed in a tasteful shade of green. A young woman sat on the bed in the middle of the room, staring out of a nearby window, her long blond hair the only indication of her gender from where he was currently lying as her back was to him.

Then she turned around, revealing a face that he could have sworn he'd seen somewhere before- a face that somehow warmed his heart and sent a comforting feeling through his entire body- and eyes that automatically widened in shock at the sight before her.

"What the… _Peter_?" she said, her voice low as she stared in shock at him.

As he stared back at her, he paused for a moment, sensing something flickering in the back of his mind about the woman before him, something where only moments before there had been nothing…

Then it hit him.

A name.

_Her _name; he knew it was hers as certainly as he'd known that he was in a metal box only moments before.

"Claire?" he asked, looking at her uncertainly as he spoke.

* * *

Claire couldn't believe it.

Only a few minutes ago she'd been talking to Nathan about how she had been missing Peter, and now, here he was, half-naked- and he looked _good _like that, a traitorous part of her mind thought- and with a new short haircut, looking at her like he'd never seen her before in her life.

"You're alive…" she whispered, reaching out with one hand, shaking constantly as she moved closer and closer to him, partly terrified that she'd reach him and he'd vanish. "You're alive… I knew it… I _knew _you couldn't be dead…"

Then her fingers touched his skin- his warm, living, and most of all _real _skin- and the last remnants of Claire's restraint snapped; leaping off the bed, she hugged Peter tightly, sobbing with joy into his shoulder as he slowly raised his arms to hug her back.

"It's OK, Claire…" he said soothingly into her ear, the same voice she'd heard in her dreams ever since he'd told her that he hadn't known he was going to heal when he'd fallen off a building to save her life. "It's OK…"

After a few moments, when Claire finally felt herself regain at least some control over herself, she pulled back from Peter, only for her eyes to widen in shock as his lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

For a moment, Claire was too stunned to think about what had just happened- she even briefly contemplated the possibility that it _hadn't _happened and this was just another dream-, but then she allowed herself to briefly surrender to what she'd wanted since almost the moment she first saw him, kissing him back with all the passion and longing that she'd tried to deny ever since she first saw the picture of him standing beside her father- his _brother_- all those long months ago...

Then reality took over, and she forced herself to pull away from him, staring resolutely into his eyes even as she tried to ignore the confused, hurt expression on his face as he stared at her.

"What _happened _to you?" she asked, forcing herself to focus on the immediate matter at hand rather than what had just taken place between them (A traitorous part of her mind asked her if she really _wanted _to know what had happened that would convince him to give her what she'd wanted from him practically since they met, but she forced that thought aside; she _had _to know what had happened to him). "I mean, the last time I saw you you were... were..."

As she took in the confused expression on his face, her voice trailed off, looking uncertainly at Peter as he raised one hand to his lips, his eyes briefly flicking to her own before he met her gaze once again.

"We... we don't kiss, do we?" he said, a slightly inquiring tone in his voice.

Claire blinked.

Of all the things she'd expected Peter to say if he'd ever returned to her after that nightmarish confrontation in Kirby Plaza, that statement certainly hadn't been anywhere near the top of the list...

"Uh... excuse me?" she asked, looking at him in confusion. "Peter, are you all...?"

Then her traitorous eyes flicked downwards to steal a glance at his chest- God, for a man who didn't give the impression he worked out much he looked _good_-, and her eyes fell on the golden symbol around his neck.

The same symbol as the one that had been worn by the man she'd only ever known as the Haitian.

"Oh my God..." Claire whispered, reaching out to take the symbol on her right hand, looking at it for a few seconds before she looked sorrowfully up at Peter. "You... you don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

At those two simple words, Claire was simultaneously filled with joy, frustration, and self-loathing almost instantaneously.

Here she was, with her thought-to-be-dead uncle now miraculously alive again, and all she could think about was that he didn't _know _about the fact that she was his niece?

Not only was she now extremely annoyed at the Haitian for erasing Peter's memories and leaving her in this situation, she was also annoyed at herself for actually allowing herself to think about the possibilities of this situation in the first place.

_So much for any hope that my life would get easier now_... she mused to herself, as, with no real idea what else she could do, she settled for simply wrapping her arms around Peter in another hug.

"It's OK, Peter..." she said, trying to be as reassuring as she could through her own confusion. "You'll be fine now... you just... just need some time..."

_Time_...

That was always the problem in their relationship, wasn't it? No matter how much she had wanted to spend time with him, there had always been something going on- commonly Sylar-related; another reason not to like that head-slashing sicko- to stop them from ever really taking time to spend together without having to deal with Sylar in some way or another; if it wasn't the near-imminent destruction of New York approaching and them racing agaisnt time to try and get Peter and Ted out of the city, than it was Peter being nearly accused of Jackie's murder and forced to stay in prison...

They'd had to give up so much potential time with just each other to deal with one crisis after another; would there _ever _be enough time for Claire to sort out how she felt about him?

And, on a more personal level... would whatever the Haitian had done to him be sorted out before she gave into temptation and did something that she _knew _Peter would hate her for once he remembered who he was?

* * *

AN 3: To clarify in advance for anyone wondering why Peter's memories weren't restored when he came in contact with Claire like they were when he met Adam, given that he was able to heal from being shot in "Kindred" and yet retained his amnesia, I'm assuming that Claire's ability to heal isn't as powerful as Adam's, due to Adam's body having had more 'opportunities' to heal itself over the years and hence having become 'better' at repairing more subtle injuries such as the damaged brain tissue caused by the use of the Haitian's powers. As a result, Claire's ability to heal can't restore Peter's memories because the damage is too subtle for her ability to register that there's an injury in the first place, but Adam's more advanced power is able to do so.


	2. Ripples

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Forgot to mention it earlier, but I just think I should clarify it now to avoid any misconceptions; this story _will _be at least somewhat anti-West (I might give him some better moments later on, but at first he'll just be a prat). If you liked him, I'm sorry, but I just can't see him as anything more than a jerk who likes to show off with his power and thought that he and Claire should be together just because she's the first other person with powers he'd ever met. Peter, on the other hand, went all the way to Texas to protect Claire just because he felt he _had _to, with no idea if she even had a power and convinced that he was going to die; who would you say cared more about Claire as a _person _rather than as a person with _powers_?

A Leap to Safety

As she came down for breakfast the next morning, Claire was privately congratulating herself for managing to maintain a clear head despite the _very _tempting situation she'd found herself in.

There she was, sharing a room with a man she was so crazy over she should probably be _certified _as insane, with him half-naked and no idea about the numerous reasons why she shouldn't even have _kissed _him last night- never mind all the _other _stuff that she'd been tempted to do with him once the reality of the situation had fully sunk in- and she'd managed to avoid doing anything more than that one kiss he'd given her when he'd first… appeared… in her room.

_No two ways about it_, she thought to herself as she entered the kitchen, _you can't fault _my _self-control; even in the face of _major _temptation, I kept my cool_.

"… dang it all!" her mother's voice suddenly said from inside the kitchen, breaking her train of thought and prompting her to enter the new kitchen, where her mother was standing over a pot on the stove. "My wedding ring fell in with the eggs!"

Walking over to stand beside her mother, Claire simply smiled slightly as she reached into the building water to grab the ring. The faint twinge around her skin as it burnt in the hot water was still slightly strange, but after spending the last few months getting used to the full extent of her abilities- just because she wasn't meant to use them in public didn't mean she didn't still like getting in some practice to see what she was capable of- it was so minor that it barely even registered. As Claire held up the ring before her, her hand already turning from bright red back to its usual colour, she smiled slightly over at her mother.

"We do _have_ a colander, dear," her mother said, looking at her adopted daughter in a slightly teasing manner as she took back the ring. "No need to be flashy."

"It's no big deal," Claire said dismissively as she passed the ring to her mother.

"It isn't until it gets you noticed," her mother countered, raising the ring to her lips, blowing slightly on the metal circle to cool it down.

Claire almost couldn't believe what her mother had just said to her.

"I can't even be myself at _home_?" she asked, looking in frustration at the woman who'd raised her for so many years and yet was beginning to seem increasingly like a stranger to her. "It's bad enough that I have to be all fake at school."

"We simply asked you to lay low," her father's familiar voice said from behind her, prompting Claire to turn around and look at him as he stood in the kitchen door in his stupid purple shirt.

"High school doesn't work like that, Dad," she said, feeling like shaking her head as she turned to face him while her mother walked away to give them a better chance to talk. "You lay low, and you get noticed more than anyone. They have metal detectors for people who lay too low. I have to be someone."

"You know I trust you, Claire," her father replied, smiling slightly at her as he walked over to the fridge. "I mean, we got you your own car."

"Look, it's not _just_ me we need to worry about any more…" Claire said, looking between her parents before she continued what she had to say.

It might not be the most tactful way to reveal their new guest, but it was all that she could think of to say; after her father's lies- _both _her fathers' lies- had nearly torn her life apart, she wasn't about to start lying to her parents about the situation she now found herself in (Lyle, maybe, but that was her brother; she was practically _expected _to not be honest with him).

"Peter's back," she said, once she was certain she had the attention of both of them. "Actually, he's in my room."

Her father blinked in shock.

"Peter Petrelli?" he repeated, staring at her incredulously. "Are you sure it's him?"

"Well, he looks like Peter, and he showed up around midnight on the floor after waking up in a metal box; I'd call that pretty good evidence it's him," Claire retorted, allowing herself a brief internal smile at the expression on her father's face- it wasn't often that she had the chance to shock _him_- before she got back to the matter at hand. "But… he doesn't remember anything."

"_Anything_?" her father repeated, looking sceptically at her. "You said that he 'showed up' on your floor-"

"He seemed as confused about it as I was," Claire replied, looking pointedly at her father as she continued to speak. "He didn't know who I was, he didn't know who _he _was, and he doesn't even seem to know about his abilities; he seemed just as confused about the teleporting thing as I was."

(Technically, what she'd said about Peter not knowing who she was wasn't a lie; Peter might have remembered her name, but he clearly didn't remember it in the 'right' context, given that he'd _kissed _her when he'd first appeared… and she _had _to stop thinking about that; what if he tapped into the power of that guy who'd broken into her house with Ted and found out how much she'd been thinking about _that_ particular issue?)

"Uh… remind me, who was Peter again?" her mother asked, looking uncertainly between her daughter and her husband. They'd filled her in on the essential details of Claire's encounters with Sylar that had forced them into hiding in the first place, but there really hadn't been enough time to make sure she remembered precisely which of Claire's temporary friends, acquaintances and relatives did what.

"He's the one who saved Claire when Sylar attacked the school; he mimics the powers of anyone in his immediate vicinity," her father clarified, before he turned back to look urgently at Claire. "You're _sure _it's him?"

"Trust me, no illusion's _that _good; it's Peter," Claire confirmed, nodding at her father; she'd remembered his warning about Candice Wilmer, this woman who could generate illusions, but a quick check with some scissors had confirmed that what she saw was what was there. "I tried giving him a scratch on the arm last night while he was asleep just to make sure; it healed so fast it barely even had time to bleed."

"Right," her father said, almost automatically slipping into his 'take charge' mode as he looked between her and her mother. "Sandra, take Peter something to eat and maybe see about setting up a room for him, but try and keep it secret; we don't want anyone finding out about him. Claire, just go to school and act normal; we can talk more about what we do with him-"

"There's no 'talking' needed; he's staying here," Claire cut in, looking resolutely at her father.

"Claire…" her father sighed, shaking his head slightly as he looked at her, "we can't just take him in; he's-"

"He saved my life and trusted me to stop him if things got ugly; I'm _not _going to kick him out now just because it's not 'convenient'," Claire retorted, gazing resolutely at her father in a manner that she liked to think was one of the few good things she'd learned from her biological father; Nathan might have been a jerk when they'd met- until the bit where he stopped Peter accidentally blowing up New York, of course-, but he could deliver one _hell _of a mean look when he wanted to. "You want me to abandon my entire life so that we can be safe? Fine; I'll do it. Ask me to ditch the guy who saved my life and was willing to die- _twice_- to save people?"

"Twice?" Sandra repeated, looking in confusion at Claire.

"He didn't know about my power when he came to save me- all he really had to go on was some weird warning from the future and a painting by some future-seeing artist that showed him dead near the gym- and he wanted me to shoot him to stop him blowing up New York," Claire clarified, before she looked back resolutely at her father. "The important thing right now is that he was willing to _die _if it meant other people would be safe; if he's willing to take that kind of risk for people he'll probably never even meet, I don't think it's asking us too much to just _try _and help him now, right?"

For a moment, Claire thought that her father was going to continue to argue, but, after a moment where he simply stared silently at her, evidently trying to gauge her sincerity about what she had just said, he sighed and nodded.

"All right," he said, giving her a small smile as he looked at her. "You just… go to school and do what you can about staying out of sight; we'll… we'll work something out with Peter."

Even amid the conflicting emotions she felt about her current 'victory'- how was she going to deal with having Peter in her house on a constant basis versus the joy she felt at the knowledge that she going to have _Peter _in her house on a constant basis-, Claire was still able to shoot her father a brief smile as she walked out of the house; she.

That was step one out of the way; Peter was somewhere safe for the foreseeable future.

Now all that she could do was try and think of some way for her to help him get back to who he was before she did something that she _knew _she was going to regret…

* * *

Even as his daughter walked out of the house, Noah Bennet was only slightly surprised when his wife walked over to a nearby table and picked up a copy of the _US Press_.

"Did you see this?" she asked, looking critically back at him.

Walking forward to take the paper- the revelation of Peter Petrelli's sudden reappearance in their lives would have to wait; besides, he was fairly certain that the younger man was at least still asleep, so it wasn't like they'd need to worry about him coming down while they were occupied- Noah quickly took in the article before him. The headline read **YAMAGATO C.E.O. DEAD AT AGE 70**- followed by a photo of Kaito Nakamura that had presumably been taken as a PR shot for his company, alongside a picture of Kaito's dead body, lying spread out on the pavement with blood around it.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that his wife would call his attention to it, really; after he'd mentioned that Yamagato had been involved in Claire's adoption- he'd concealed the full details about it from her, of course, but he'd still refused to tell a _total _lie to his wife about where their daughter had come from-, Sandra had taken a certain interest in the Japanese CEO's career in case he was ever somewhere where she'd have the opportunity to thank him for giving them Claire.

What really shocked him- despite the fact that he knew it shouldn't- was the familiarity of the second picture.

He'd seen it before…

"I knew this would happen," he said, sighing slightly as he studied the image before him. "Kaito…"

"How'd you know this was gonna happen?" his wife cut in; lost in thought at the loss of one of the men who'd made him who was today, Noah briefly didn't answer his wife's question.

"Hey," Sandra said again, staring pointedly at him. "_That's_ not the way we do things anymore. No more secrets; that was the deal."

As he looked back at her, Noah allowed himself a slight smile.

It was at moments like these that he was reminded what a fool he'd been to try and cut this incredible woman out of his old work; once she'd found out what he had done in the past, she had swiftly taken it upon herself to help him deal with the situation that they now found themselves in, displaying control and organisational skills that would have rivalled most of the Company's best men in helping him develop the necessary paperwork and find the correct location for them to move to.

"Wait there," he said, stepping back slightly as he put the paper down. "I'll be right back."

* * *

A few moments later, he was walking into the room that had officially been selected as his 'office' in their new house, a rolled-up sheet of paper in his hand as Sandra walked into the room behind him.

"You remember Claire mentioned a 'future-seeing artist'?" he said as he sat down in the nearest chair, spreading the paper out on the coffee table before him. "His name was Isaac Mendez; everything he's ever painted has come true."

He didn't need to elaborate further as she took in the picture before her; just as he'd recalled, it was an exact duplicate, right down to the angle that the 'camera' was looking at the body from, of the picture in the newspaper.

"Except for a series of eight," he continued, placing a book at one end of the painting to keep it flat as he continued to. "I was only given the first."

"There's seven more?" Sandra said, anxiety clear on her face as she studied the painting and the picture in the newspaper; allowing for the obvious differences in texture due to the materials used to create the two different images, they were exactly the same. "What's in the other paintings?"

"I don't know," Noah said grimly, as his wife looked in ever-growing horror at the images before the two of them. "But I'm going to find them."

More than ever before, he was glad that he'd become good at hiding his true intentions; he may have promised not to keep secrets- his continued alliance with Mohinder Suresh to tear down the Company from within notwithstanding-, but that didn't mean he had to share his feelings about certain topics. Given their current circumstances, with the potentially most powerful man on the planet now alive and in their daughter's room, the last thing he needed was for her to see how worried he was about what kind of future the next few paintings might show.

He knew from Peter's experience alone that what they saw in the pictures didn't always tell the full story- Peter may have died saving Claire, but their powers had guaranteed that he hadn't stayed that way for long-, but if he could find those paintings, he'd at least have an _idea _of what was coming for him…


	3. New Meetings

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

As Peter- and how long would it be before that name began to actually _sound _like his to him? So far he was only using it because he didn't have anything else he wanted to be called- woke up, he became aware of three different things about his surroundings once again.

Firstly, unlike the last time he'd awoken, he was now lying on a comfortable floor, in an equally comfortable room.

Secondly, the room he was in was brightly illuminated, adding to its comforting atmosphere.

Thirdly, the only person in his presence now an older woman, maybe in around her mid-forties, standing over him with a smile on her face and holding a breakfast tray.

"Hello, Peter," she said, smiling at him as he looked at her inquiringly. "I'm Claire's mother, Sandra Butler; my husband and I thought you'd like some breakfast."

"Uh… thanks," Peter said as he sat up, blinking uncertainly as he shrugged on a pale blue shirt that Claire must have grabbed for him- it was a bit big, but it at least felt better than talking to Claire's mother half-naked- before taking the tray; examining it, he saw a plateful of bacon, eggs and sausages, accompanied by a glass of orange juice.

"Wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got you a bit of a mixture," Sandra said by way of explanation, as Peter moved into a cross-legged position and began to eat the food.

"Hey; right now, _I _don't even know what I'd like," Peter replied, smiling slightly at her as he began to eat the bacon, nodding in approval as he looked back at her. "It's good; thanks."

"You're welcome," Sandra replied, smiling back at him. "You saved my daughter, Peter; I figure that breakfast is the least I can do."

Peter blinked.

"I saved her?" he said, looking up at the older woman in surprise. "Uh… how'd I do that?"

"There was…" Sandra paused for a moment, evidently wondering if she should say what she was about to say, before she nodded resolutely. "There was a man who was… he tried to kill Claire, before you stopped him."

"Really?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling slightly as he reflected on that.

He had to admit, he kind of liked the implications of what that last statement said about him as a person; saving the girl from the psychocitic killer…

"How'd it happen?" he asked, looking inquiringly at his hostess as he started to cut his egg. "I mean, did I just… see him attacking her or something?"

For a moment Sandra simply looked silently at him, evidently contemplating what she should say, before she shook her head.

"It's… it's not really something _I _can tell you; I don't know enough about it to tell you much, anyway," she said apologetically, the expression on her face making it clear that she wasn't concealing the truth for any other reason than what she had just told him. "My husband… well, he thinks he knows who put you in this position; he said he'd see what he could do about finding a way to help you."

"'This position'?" Peter repeated, looking at her with a slightly sceptical smile. "Your husband knows people who can leave me in a box without any memories?"

The serious expression on Sandra's face prompted him to end that line of inquiry; evidently she didn't know how to respond to that comment right now, and Peter didn't feel right pressing her for any further information.

Besides…

Given where he'd been when he'd 'woken up' last time, something told him that he almost might not _want _to know more about what Claire's father did for a living that put him in contact with people like that. Maybe if he asked Claire…

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Peter would have chuckled at the thought; here he was, a man in his mid-twenties- according to what Claire had told him; she admitted that he'd never told her his _specific _age, but she'd given him a general estimate at least-, and he was going to trust the word of a girl who was still in high school?

At the same time, though, there was the way she'd looked at him when he'd arrived… a look that gave the impression that she'd thought that she'd never see him again (Although that thing she said about knowing that he couldn't be dead at least gave him a bit of an idea about why she was looking at him like that)… a look that seemed so much older than the face that it had been on should appear…

Something had happened to Claire that made her more than just a normal girl, and Peter was _definitely _interested to know what it was.

If nothing else, why had she been more startled about the fact that he was inher room than by the fact that he'd been able to just _appear _in it like he had? He might not remember his life, but he was pretty sure that, if their positions had been reversed, he'd have been asking her how she managed to do that; she might have seemed surprised to actually see him, but given what she'd said it sounded more like that was because she'd thought he was… dead, apparently… rather than because he'd just appeared there…

Why would _that _be her more immediate concern?

* * *

Even as Claire walked through the corridors of her new school, she could barely pay any attention to the events taking place around her. The cheerleader tryout signs- once a possible sign of her attempt to recapture a past that she'd had to abandon- were now nothing more than bits of paper on the wall, the people around her weren't her peers but just people she had to spend time with, and as for boys…

How could she think seriously about _any _of these boys when the man who'd literally _died _for her had returned to her life? OK, a couple of them seemed to be all right- that 'West' guy was actually kind of cute if you got past that whole 'aliens/robots' theory of school survival he had-, but the simple fact was that, now that Peter was back in her life, most of the boys around her seemed so…

She was almost ashamed to say 'childish', but there it was; after she's spent so much time with a guy who was willing to _die _for her, anyone else just… couldn't compare to him, really.

In many ways, she was actually rather grateful to be in the darkened science classroom right now; watching a cartoonish-looking lizard regrowing its missing limb might be a bit disturbing, but at least it gave her something to think about apart from the failing standard of guys in her age bracket who _weren't _related to her…

"This video," Mr Zern said, as he looked out at the class before him, "demonstrates the newt's _amazing_ ability to re-grow a completely working limb. But newts are not the only creatures with this talent; thanks to millions of years of combined mutation, lizards are capable of cellular regeneration-"

"You mean like people who can heal themselves?" Claire cut in, her mind briefly started away from thoughts of Peter by that reference to her own ability; she couldn't believe that she hadn't made the connection earlier.

"No," Mr Zern chuckled, "not people, Claire; lizards. And raise your hand, please."

Even as a part of her was kicking herself for letting things go this far- what happened to 'be invisible'?-, Claire raised her hand, determined to learn more about what she might be capable of.

"But it's possible, right?" she asked Mr Zern earnestly, after he nodded in her direction and she'd lowered her hand once again. "For people to be able to do that too? I mean, theoretically."

"Well, there's a lot of controversial- though promising- work with stem cells," Mr Zern replied, nodding thoughtfully at the question.

"So we might be able to culture whole organs and limbs for people who need them?" Claire continued, looking earnestly at him as another thought occurred to her. "I mean, could we even replace damaged brain tissue?"

She'd be the first to admit that she wasn't entirely sure how the Haitian's memory-erasing power worked, but given those brain tumours that had nearly killed her mother, it wasn't like it was totally impossible to assume that he erased memories by damaging the parts of the brain that held those memories.

Maybe if she could figure out how to… how to _prompt _Peter's power to repair the damage to his memory, he'd remember who he was.

"Well… the organ thing's possible, but as to repairing brain tissue, we're a long way from being capable of doing something like that yet," Mr Zern replied, shaking his head slightly as he thought over her question before he shrugged. "Evolution-wise, I guess the next step for us is phasing out the extra parts. We're not using the appendix anymore, or grinding bone with our wisdom teeth; we don't even really need a pinky toe for balance, it's all just… _junk_ in our DNA."

For a moment Claire thought about asking if he knew anything about the possibility of people having evolved a different gene code already- it might be interesting to get a more scientific perspective on the whole thing-, but she quickly decided against it; with Peter currently lacking any _idea _of what he could really do if he had to, she didn't want to put herself in the spotlight and draw attention to him.

After all, how do you explain your amnesic biological uncle suddenly showing up at your house when you're trying to start a new life to stay under the radar? She might want to help Peter, but she knew that letting that 'Company' that her dad used to work for get their hands on him in his current condition would be anything _but _helpful; given what he was capable of, they'd lock him up until they'd worked out how he could do the mimicry thing and then kill him.

She _couldn't _let that happen to Peter…

(_And _no, she told the traitorous part of her mind that always taunted her about falling for her uncle, _it's _not _because of how I feel; I just don't want him to lose the guy who saved my life _again…

It was a good argument.

Too bad she didn't really _believe _it.)

* * *

A few hours later, as school ended and the last bell of the day rang, Claire was just closing her locker and had turned to head towards the car park when West stepped out from around the corner, a slight smile on his face as he looked at her.

"So ... lizards, huh?" West said, smiling at her in that almost teasing way that was already getting on her nerves.

"Tell me you didn't just time that so I'd walk right past you," Claire sighed, looking almost incredulously at him before she shook her head slightly and walked past him, trying to ignore him as he followed her; the only thing _remotely _appealing about him right now was the Peter-like hair, and after seeing the real thing's new shorter cut even that was pushing it.

"I figured you'd be more into whales or something," he said, sounding almost amused at the idea that she'd have genetics-related questions. "Unicorns-"

"You know," she sighed as she started to walk away from her locker and towards the car park, hoping that he'd stop talking to her once he registered that she wasn't interested, "you make a lot of assumptions; is my hair really that blonde?"

She always hated it when people just _assumed _she couldn't take care of herself; it was one of the reasons she… liked (Such a pathetic term for it, really, but it was all she could think of right now; she had to start watching her thoughts in case Peter tapped into Officer Parkman's telepathy and found out something she didn't want him to know) Peter so much. He might have come all the way to Texas to save her, but at least he'd shown- admittedly when he gave her that gun to kill him if he lost control- that he trusted her enough to do what she had to do if the situation called for it.

"I think it's cool, actually," West commented, drawing her attention back to him (As much as she would have preferred to be able to continue thinking about Peter). "I'm… sort of into genetics too."

"I didn't say I was into genetics-" she began, shrugging dismissively.

"You don't have to hide everything interesting about you," West said, moving over to her right side as he continued talking, waving his arms slightly to emphasise his point. "Biology is supposed to be our _destiny_. But people forget; genes can change."

Claire frowned slightly as she continued walking, wishing that this guy would just get the picture and turn away; his enthusiasm for this topic might be somewhat endearing, but with Peter's return, his presence now a constant reminder of his old determination to save people…

Quite frankly, West just seemed like he was trying too hard to talk to her.

"I thought guys like you were supposed to sit at the back of the classroom and hate everything," she said, smirking slightly at him as she walked. For a moment, West seemed lost and she hoped that he was going to give up and walk away, but then he continued speaking.

"I just found this book," he said. "It's by some Indian guy- I can barely even pronounce his name- it's about _everything_ you're talking about; people who've _evolved_. There's a whole chapter on regeneration-"

"Sorry," Claire said, determined to cut him off- he was starting to get dangerously close to a topic she really _didn't _want anyone else thinking about-, "I… uh… left all my awesome genetic textbook reading for the summer vacation."

Once again, however, West proved incapable of taking the hint; after a brief pause, he simply started speaking again.

"You should see it," he told her, although his tone at least sounded more uncertain than it had earlier. "I- I could bring it over. Get you on your way to your Ph.D."

"You know," Claire cut in rummaging in her bag for her keys, "I don't really _care_ that much; I was just kind of bored in class."

"Really?" West said as she pulled out her keys, his tone evidently sceptical even if he wasn't going to push the point.

"Yes," she said, as she turned to look at him with an insincere smile, "but if you like lizards, that's awesome; have fun, and I've gotta go home."

It was only when she turned around and noted the absence of her car that she realised that getting home wouldn't be as simple as she thought it was going to be.

_Great_… she groaned to herself._ I've got an inquisitive pain-in-the-neck who might know _way_ too much about me already asking questions, my amnesic-yet-still-hot 'uncle'_- she still couldn't make herself think of Peter that way-_ is back in my life, and now my _car's _been stolen?_

It was official; trying to start a new life _sucked_.

* * *

AN: To anyone wondering after reading this chapter, yes, this will be anti-Claire/West in general and anti-West in particular; I just… I REALLY don't like the guy, and am convinced Claire just used him as a convenient 'Peter substitute' due to him looking a bit like Peter. I mean, he told Claire that she was 'better' than Debbie just because she had _powers_; call me paranoid, but wasn't it that kind of attitude that drove Sylar to kill all those people? I'm not saying that West would do THAT, I'm just saying that he's the kind of guy who thinks that he can do what he wants because he isn't normal; Debbie might have been a bitch, but she never did any _real _harm to anyone, and yet West convinced Claire to abuse her power to get back at her, when the only time CLAIRE used her powers independently was to save a life and punish a rapist.

AN 2: If anyone could direct me to a web site where I can find scripts for the remaining episodes of Season Two, I'd appreciate it; the site I was originally using has suddenly been apparently stopped for some reason, so if anyone could direct me to another site I could use to find some episode dialogue it would definitely be helpful


	4. Confrontations

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

As Claire walked into Copy Kingdom- she still wasn't sure whether she thought that or 'Primatech Paper' was a dumber name for a place-, she swallowed slightly as she looked over at the corner of the counter where her father was currently stacking bags of sweets into shelves.

She knew that it was stupid to be worried about _this_; here she was, wanting to jump Peter despite the fact that it would be wrong on _so _many levels, and she was afraid about how her father would react to a stolen _car_? In terms of the consequences if Peter or her were discovered, that _really _didn't rank that highly on the 'bad news' scale…

Claire just wished she could convince _herself _of that…

"Hey," her father said, breaking into her train of thought as he smiled over at her, putting another bag into the shelves in front of him even as he spoke. "Five-pound bag of Gummi Bears; receptionists love them. A well-stocked candy dish makes them feel popular…"

His voice trailed off as he turned to look properly at her as she stood in front of him, one hand on the counter as she looked apprehensively at him.

"Dad," she said uncertainly, speaking as rapidly as possible in an attempt to get the issue out in the open as soon as possible, "if I told you something, will you promise not to freak out?"

As her father moved to stand almost directly in front of her, Claire tensed herself for his reaction before she spoke again. "My car… kinda got stolen."

After a moment's silence, her father sighed, a smile on his face as he looked at her.

"My God, Claire," he said, relief evident in his voice. "My heart just about stopped."

"I know," Claire replied, allowing herself a slight smile at the sight of his reaction; at least he wasn't _that _freaked about it. "What's a stolen car when you're-"

She cut that sentence off before she could finish it; with Peter back in her life, she had even more reason to be careful about what she was saying in public. "Never mind; look, the point is, if I ever get another car, I _promise _that I'll never leave it unlocked_ ever_ again."

It was only when she registered the expression on her father's face that she realised the mistake she'd just made.

"You left it… unlocked?" her father repeated, the smile fading from his face as he looked at her in ever-slightly-visible frustration. "Claire…"

Before he went any further, he took a brief glance at their surroundings, evidently confirming that the shop was quiet enough for the staff not to miss him for a few moments, before he placed an arm around her shoulders and begin to walk her off towards the back of the shop. "I have to be able to _trust_ you. And not just with the car; with everything!"

"I _know_," Claire groaned (She was really starting to get _sick _of this speech; did he think she wouldn't get the point unless he repeated himself or something?). "I made a mistake-"

"We can't afford mistakes-" her father began.

"Because we're in hiding and it's dangerous," Claire groaned, trying to keep the '_I know_' part of that statement in her head only; that _definitely _wouldn't help her convince her father that she was mature enough to cope with the current situation.

"That's right," her father replied briefly. "Besides, with Peter-"

Claire stopped walking at that, turning to glare at her father.

He could say what he wanted about her, but he was _not _going to use Peter to try and reinforce his argument; the guy had been through _enough _crap because people wanted to 'use' him for stuff (She still wished she'd had the chance to punch her grandmother after what Nathan had told her about the plan to destroy New York during those brief moments when he was coherent enough after the explosion).

"Don't even _think _about bringing him into this," she said, glaring coldly back at him even as she took care not to speak too loudly in case she attracted any unwanted attention. "He needs _help_, Dad-"

"And I'll do what I can to get it for him," her father replied, crouching slightly to look her more directly in the eyes. "But you need to realise that it's going to take time, and as it is Peter's only going to attract attention; you need to-"

"_Help _him learn what he can do in case we have a repeat of Kirby Plaza," Claire retorted firmly, folding her arms as she glared resolutely at her father, a part of her almost not believing that she was saying this.

In many ways, she'd already made up her mind about what she could do to help Peter in his current condition even before she came here, but saying it to her father like this- in many ways, openly defying him for the first time in her life; even when she'd pretended the Haitian had erased her memory she'd never done anything he'd explicitly told her _not _to do- made it almost automatically more… real.

"_What_?" her father hissed back at her, taking her arm and hurrying her off to a back room before he turned to look at her once again. "Claire, we are trying to lay _low_-"

"Peter's got no memory of what he can do and no idea how to stop himself from doing it; if I don't help him get the hang of it who _knows _what he could do?" Claire countered, stepping back as soon as they were inside the storeroom. "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything anywhere he can be seen, but he _needs _me if he's going to learn what he can do."

After a moment's silence as she and her father looked at each other, her expression resolute while her father's at least appeared slightly uncertain, Claire sighed and spoke again.

"Look," she continued, looking at him with what she hoped was an understanding expression. "You want to keep me safe; I get that, and I appreciate, OK? But Peter _needs _me if he's going to cope with… what he can do… before we can figure out some way to help him remember it on his own; it might not matter if I don't really know how _my_… thing… works, but Peter _has _to know about his limits if he's going to 'blend in'."

For a moment, as her father continued to stare silently back at her, Claire wondered if she'd gone too far or been a bit too… passionate… in her plea- how would her father react if he knew how she felt about Peter?-, but he finally nodded.

"All right," he said, still looking at her in a very pointed manner that made it clear he didn't like what she had decided to do but was at least willing to try and put up with it at the moment. "But just remember; if you feel you _have _to… train… him, stay-"

"Out of sight and don't let anyone else see what he can do; I _know_, Dad," Claire said, groaning slightly in frustration as she turned around and walked out of the storeroom, more out of an attempt to stop herself saying anything that she'd regret later.

God, couldn't her dad just accept that she was able to make her own decisions about _some _things now? If he wanted to protect her from the Company by uprooting her entire life, she could handle that, but if he even _tried _to get Peter moved away somewhere else because he wanted to 'protect their cover'…

Claire wasn't going to stand for it.

When he didn't even remember his own name, Peter had come to her- _her_, of all people- when he was alone and acted on instinct to go somewhere safe; how could she turn him away after something like that (_And_ no, she told the traitorous part of her mind that insisted upon reminding her about her _real _relationship to Peter, _it's _not _because I want him around, it's because I want to make sure he's safe _before _I send him back somewhere where the Company might be looking out for him_).

Somehow, repetition just was _not _making the point stick any better than it had when she started using it…

* * *

As Peter sat at the Butler's kitchen table, now dressed in a dark blue shirt, trousers and shoes that Claire's mother had picked up from a shop for him- she'd gathered the trouser size from the ones he'd been wearing when he arrived, and the shirt and shoe size had just been an estimate that seemed to work; apparently the Butlers didn't want him to leave the house for reasons he hadn't been told yet-, he looked up as he heard footsteps coming towards the door, smiling slightly as Claire walked into the kitchen; her mother had taken her brother off to get some new clothes and her father still hadn't come back from work yet.

"Hey," he said, putting the book he'd been reading off to one side- something about genetics; he'd found it tucked away in a box in Claire's room shortly after he'd had breakfast and started reading it out of idle curiosity- to look at her. "Good day?"

The frustrated look that Claire gave him in response to that query was all that Peter needed to answer his question.

"Not too good, huh?" he asked, looking apologetically at her.

"Getting your new car stolen on only your _second _day with it and then having your father tell you that he basically doesn't trust you when you're doing the best job you can isn't what _I'd _call good, anyway; would you?" Claire countered, glaring back at him for a moment before she sighed and slumped down in the nearest chair, tossing her bag off to the side. "Sorry; it's all been a bit… well, it's been a rough few months, really."

"It has?" Peter replied, looking uncertainly at her. "Uh… I'm not trying to sound self-centred or anything, but… does that have anything to do with…?"

For a moment an awkward silence settled over the table, Peter unwilling to finish the sentence and Claire initially uncertain what he was talking about, before an explanation struck her.

"With… what happened to you?" she said, shaking her head as she looked at him. "Trust me, what happened to you was… rough… but it has _nothing _to do with what's been happening to me the last few months; we'd have been in this situation whatever happened to you."

"Oh," Peter said simply, silence settling over the room once again before he looked curiously at her. "What… _did _put you in this situation?"

For a moment, Claire simply sat in silence, looking at him with a thoughtful expression on her face that gave him little to no real idea where her thoughts were going, before she nodded resolutely.

"My mom told you how we met, right?" she asked.

"I… saved you from getting killed, right?" Peter asked, looking uncertainly at her; he still wasn't entirely clear on the specifics of that.

"Yeah…" Claire said, nodding in confirmation as she stood up and walked over to a nearby drawer, opening it to pick up a knife. "I'm guessing she just didn't tell you _why _he was trying to kill me.

With that, she pulled up her left sleeve and sliced a deep cut into her arm.

"_Claire_!" Peter yelled, automatically sitting up and staring in horror at the blade as it dug into her skin. "_What are you_…?"

His voice trailed off as he stared incredulously at the injury she'd just made; right before his eyes, not only was the deep cut she'd made in her own skin no longer bleeding, but the cut was actually healing itself even as he looked at it.

"Oh my god…" he whispered, looking in amazement at the skin where the cut had been before he looked back at her.

If what he'd seen was real- and he had no reason to believe it wasn't-…

God, it was no wonder he found this girl so incredible even when he could barely remembered anything specific about his own life.


	5. Decisions

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

"Yeah," Claire said, nodding slightly in response to his unasked question. "That's why I wasn't that surprised to see you just… show up like that last night. Things…"

She shrugged uncertainly. "Well, let's just say our lives haven't been normal even before we met, even if they only really got interesting- for me, anyway- after that."

After a moment's silence, Peter looked Claire directly in the eyes, a stunned expression on his face as he considered the implications of what he'd just seen.

"You… how can you do that?" he asked at last (He'd done his best to come up with a way of asking the question with as few negative implications as possible; 'What are you?' sprung to mind as a possible alternative way for him to have asked that question, but he didn't want Claire to think he didn't see her as… well, 'inhuman').

"It's my… my power, really," Claire replied, smiling slightly at the almost child-like wonder on Peter's face as he looked back at her; she wondered if this was how he'd reacted when he'd learned what he could do before he lost his memories. "I can heal from… well, pretty much anything, as far as I know; it doesn't work if something's left in the wound, but otherwise I'm pretty much the picture of perfect health."

"Whoa…" Peter said, his voice low as he stared in awe at the arm that had so recently been injured, before another thought occurred to him as he looked at Claire. "Is… is that why you weren't surprised to see me… appear like I did? Is that… is it my power?"

"Well… not exactly," Claire replied, shaking her head slightly as she looked at him, trying to recall what Peter had told her about his powers during that brief period they'd spent together between her pulling that shard of glass out of his head- and that still gave her the occasional nightmare- and the fateful Kirby Plaza confrontation. "From what you told me, you're… well, basically, whenever you meet somebody else with a power, your body kind of… tweaks itself to allow you to use their powers."

"Really?" Peter said, looking at her with a slightly eager smile on his face. "You mean… because I've met you, I can heal like you do?"

"Well, you can do it when you're near me and… well, when you're on your own, you told me that you can use other powers by remembering how the people whose powers you'd absorbed made you feel when you met them," Claire replied, evidently trying to recall everything he'd told her about his abilities before he…

Well, before… whatever had happened to him had happened to him (He really needed to ask her for more information about that when he felt that the time was right; given that whatever had happened had left her thinking he was dead, he was fairly certain it wasn't something she was going to bring up on her own…).

"Wait; 'people' with powers?" he repeated, looking at her eagerly as his mind processed what she'd just told him. "As in, I knew more people than just you with abilities? What else could I do?"

"Well…" Claire said, trailing off briefly as she looked up at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her face, before she nodded and looked back at him. "Last time I spoke to you, you could fly, paint the future, read minds, turn invisible, move things with your mind, and generate radiation, but you might have picked some other stuff since then; you'd just met a woman with superhuman strength and been near a few other people with powers when you… when we last saw each other, but I'm not sure if you'd been close enough to absorb their abilities…"

"What could they do?" Peter asked, wishing he could stop himself from sounding like an eager little boy at the prospect of possessing more powers; just the idea of possessing one power was incredible enough, but if Claire was telling him the truth- and so far he had no reason to think otherwise-, he had more than that…

The idea was incredible.

"I mean," he continued, looking with an increasingly broad grin at the beautiful blonde woman before him (He knew that she was still in school, but he couldn't help but think of her as a woman; she'd coped remarkably well with having him drop into her life like this, particularly after what her mother had told him about the circumstances around their first meeting), "could they… move really fast? See through stuff? Fire electricity-"

A sudden crackle from his hand prompted Peter and Claire to glance down at his right hand, where his fingers were glowing and crackling with a brilliant blue-white light.

"Oh my God…" Peter whispered, raising his hand to flex his fingers as he stared incredulously at the hand before him. "This is… this is…"

"Uh… that's new," Claire said, looking uncertainly at Peter's hand as she glanced between Peter's face and his raised arm.

"New?" Peter repeated, looking back at Claire with a sudden uncertainty. "You mean… I absorbed this power after I saw you?"

"Yeah…" Claire said, looking uncertainly at him as she looked at this still glowing hand. "Damn… this is going to make training you tricky…"

Peter blinked.

"Hold on, 'training me'?" he repeated, looking inquiringly at Claire; that last statement struck him as being a rather rapid change of topic.

"Well, you didn't think I was going to leave you to figure this out by yourself, did you?" Claire asked, looking back at him with a slight smile. "The electricity thing's new, of course, but you told me pretty much everything you can do before… well, you vanished; I think I can give you a pretty decent crash course in what you're capable of without too much trouble."

She just wished that she felt as confident as she sounded; Peter might have told her how he'd managed to get his powers under control during the brief time they'd spent together between her arrival in New York and the battle at Kirby Plaza, but she hadn't expected that he'd have been in contact with other… 'specials', she thought was the best term right now… since then…

Still, if it meant that she could help Peter at least try to make sure that what had nearly happened at Kirby Plaza would never happen again, she'd do what she could; after all, at least if he accidentally hurt her while training she'd 'grow back' and he wouldn't have anything to feel guilty about.

The sound of a car pulling up outside- most likely her mother coming back from wherever she'd been earlier- drew Claire's attention away from her thoughts and back to the matter at hand.

Given everything that was going on in their lives right now, Claire wasn't entirely sure how her mother would react to the knowledge that an empathic mimic who'd absorbed some potentially very dangerous powers would be training in her house; it would probably be better for everything if she just kept that part of recent events quiet from everyone who didn't know it already.

"Look, we'll talk about this later, OK?" she said, looking earnestly at Peter as she heard the car doors open. "It's just… well, I don't think Mom's quite ready to know everything you can do yet; she's still… kinda getting used to all this, and I don't want to freak her out until we know you've got everything under control."

"Uh… sure," Peter replied, nodding slightly uncertainly at Claire as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the outer door. He wasn't entirely certain about this latest turn of events, of course; how was any many meant to react to the idea that he not only had 'superpowers', but actually have several...?

But, at the same time, if it gave him the opportunity to spend more time with the ever-intriguing, captivating Claire Bennett?

Peter had to admit, he wasn't exactly going to be complaining about this latest turn of events...

* * *

A few hours later, as Noah Bennett stood up from behind the desk where he'd been sorting the latest few delivery orders- he was just grateful he was located near the back; he was still too junior to attract much attention-, he allowed himself a slight smile as he dialled Mohinder Suresh's number and raised his cellphone to his ear. It wasn't the best kind of distraction, but at least he had something more engaging to keep his mind occupied now; there were only so many things that could be difficult in a shop that primarily dealt in paper.

"You're working late," Mohinder's voice replied, the tone casual despite the implied question; evidently he'd heard the sounds of Noah's fellow employees' in the background.

"Night shift; don't ask," Noah replied briefly as he walked down the shop towards the main door; if things had worked out like he believed they would, he'd prefer to be ready for his 'guest' to arrive. "Was it a productive trip?"

"_You should have the answer to that yourself very shortly_," Mohinder replied, which provided Noah with the first genuine smile he'd felt for a while; at least _this _part of the operation was going according to plan, even if Peter's presence had made things more complicated.

"And… you didn't arouse any… suspicions?" he continued, taking care to keep his voice low; it might be considered paranoid by some, but he wanted to ensure that there was as few opportunities as possible for people to learn what he was up to on even the slightest chance that .

"_I don't think so_," Mohinder replied. "_Bob seemed more angry at himself for trusting the bungling professor_."

Despite his friend's neutral tone, Noah allowed himself a slight smile at that statement; at least they were succeeding in creating the right impression of Mohinder at the Company so far.

"_They'll be watching me more closely now_," Mohinder continued, drawing Noah's attention back to the conversation.

"That's to be expected," he replied, keeping his tone casual; as much as he trusted Mohinhder, there was always an element of risk when dealing with the Company in any way, shape or form. "Don't worry; I'll find the other paintings myself."

"_Are you sure_?" Mohinder asked, evidently uncertain about Noah's chances of doing so on his own.

As Noah turned around to look at the door, he smiled inwardly as he saw the person who had just walked into the store,

"You've given me everything I need," he assured Mohinder simply.

With that, he terminated the connection and turned to look directly at the new arrival. "Welcome to Copy Kingdom; How can I help you?"

With that, the two old colleagues shook hands, Noah subsequently indicating a back room a short distance away where the two men could talk for the moment without being overheard; anyone who saw him would assume that he was simply talking to a customer about a private order that he wanted.

"So," Noah asked as they entered the room, the door swiftly being closed behind him as he turned to look at the Haitian, "I assume you know what I'm after?"

"Doctor Suresh told me what he could about the situation before I took the conversation," the Haitian confirmed, nodding briefly at Noah. "I am willing to assist your search for the paintings."

"Thank you," Noah replied, nodding in gratitude at his old partner before he assumed a more serious expression. "Although… as long as _you're_ here, there's a… personal matter… I'd appreciate your help with."

"What kind of 'personal matter'?" the Haitian asked, looking curiously at his old partner.

"Last night, Peter Petrelli showed up in my house, with no memory of who he is and wearing _your _old necklace," Noah said, looking pointedly at the Haitian as he spoke. "I don't know when you managed to make contact with him between then and Kirby Plaza, but I need you to get into his mind again and get him somewhere safe before we go anywhere; his presence-"

"Peter Petrelli came to your house when he did not remember who he was?" the Haitian interjected, an expression of mixed curiosity and surprise on his face as he looked back at Noah.

"Exactly; he doesn't know who he is or what he's capable of, and until he gets his powers under control there' a _very _good chance that he'll lip up and let someone know where we are," Noah replied, trying to project the same air of authority that he'd used when he'd worked with the Haitian in the Company. "Claire's insisting that she be allowed to train him in how to use his powers, but it's just too risky; you have to get him somewhere-"

"I will not," the Haitian interjected simply.

Noah blinked.

He might have known for the last few months that the Haitian hadn't _always _obeyed him- the fact that Claire still remembered her encounter with Peter and Sylar was a constant reminder of that fact- but to hear him actually say "No" directly was still something he hadn't been expecting…

"Excuse me?" he said, looking in confusion at the man standing before him.

"There are some things that are simply… meant to be," the Haitian replied, declining to elaborate any further on that statement despite the confusion that Noah knew was evident on his face at that last remark. "When I last met him, I took all memory of your daughter from Peter's mind as part of my attempt to protect him… and yet, even now, when he has nothing but instinct to guide him, when he was in danger and sought safety, his power took him to her."

For a moment the Haitian looked upwards, as though thinking about what he was about to say, before he lowered his eyes to gaze directly at Noah. "There is a… connection between them; I will not deny such a bond once it has displayed itself in such a manner."

"And that means you're _leaving _him here?" Noah protested, looking incredulously at the man he was increasingly beginning to realise he'd never really known; the implications of the 'bond' whose existence the Haitian had hinted at in that last sentence alone left him questioning everything he thought he'd known about the Haitian's supposedly religious background. "He's her _uncle_-"

"There are forces in this world that are greater than genetics," the Haitian replied simply. "I will not stand in their way simply because I do not entirely agree with them; do not ask me to do so again."

For a moment, Noah thought about continuing to try and convince the Haitian so see the current situation from his perspective; he was talking about allowing a teenage girl to stay in contact with an amnesic uncle who he'd already seen looking at his daughter in a manner that you were _not _supposed to look at your niece…

But he knew the look on the Haitian's face all too well; it was the same look the man had assumed when he had revealed that he had been working for someone else when it came to matters concerning Claire's safety.

When the Haitian assumed _that _look, everyone at the Company had known that it was time to stop talking if they wanted to wake up the next morning with all their memories intact.

After their silent 'staring contest' had been going on for a few moments, Noah sighed and nodded in resignation.

"Well…" he groaned, a he looked back at the other man. "I suppose Peter can be trusted not to do anything… inappropriate… until he gets his memories back."

Another thought occurred to him and he looked curiously at the other man. "Uh… _can _he get his memories back? You've never mentioned being able to… reverse your ability…"

"I cannot," the Haitian replied simply, a slight smile on his face. "There are, however, _other _methods that can be used…"


	6. Failure to Lie

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Just to clarify, the scene where Claire cut off her little toe is referenced here, but I didn't write it because it happened pretty much the same way as it did in the show; Peter was upstairs at the time and Claire was just curious to see just what her powers could be capable of

A Leap to Safety

As Claire sat up in her bed the next morning- Peter now safely 'tucked away' in their new guest room to help their efforts to keep him safe-, casually perusing the copy of _Activating Evolution _she'd apparently been 'given' yesterday, she allowed herself a slight smile at the thought of how well things were going with Peter's new 'training'.

They hadn't actually started working on his ability to access his old 'rolodex' yet, of course- given that he couldn't remember the people he'd met Claire still wasn't sure how she was going to help him access his other powers right now-, but they'd tested his ability to use her power by giving him slight scratches with scissors or knives while they were up in her room, Claire increasing the distance between them each time to get a better idea of his 'range' (Claire had also carried out her own private 'test' in the living room while her mother was cleaning, cutting off her little toe to see how her power would cope with that, but she wasn't ready to start hacking off Peter's limbs; she still had no real idea how accurately he was able to copy powers and didn't want to risk him being unable to precisely duplicate _that _aspect of her abilities).

They'd also gone over some of the things that had been in Peter's pockets when he'd appeared- Claire had cleaned them out after he'd fallen asleep shortly after his arrival in the hope of finding something to explain what he was doing there-, but nothing had provided them with any clear idea what had happened to him between Kirby Plaza and him waking up in that metal crate he'd been in before he teleported into her room. The plane tickets from New York to Montreal failed to fill in any of the blanks- until they knew more about what had happened to him, neither of them were willing to go there in case it was a trap arranged by whoever or whatever had erased his memory-, and his passport hardly told them anything they didn't already know. The assorted dollar bills of mixed amounts naturally failed to provide them with any new pieces of the puzzle they were currently trying to figure out, and the folded pamphlet that accompanied the bills seemed to be nothing more than some information about the flight service the ticket had been booked with.

(There'd also been the picture of Peter standing beside Nathan, of course, but Claire had hidden that away for the moment; she didn't want to give Peter a reason to contact anyone else until he'd remembered more about why they had to keep things quiet (The fact that she hadn't wanted to risk the sight of him with her bio-dad triggering any memories about their _real _relationship was _not _the main reason she'd done that; there wasn't even enough of a physical resemblance between her and Nathan for him to make that connection).)

Right now, though, with Peter asleep in the guest room and her parents still not awake, Claire had decided to take the opportunity to peruse the book that she'd discovered in the drive after seeing that 'West' kid hurrying away from the window; even if she didn't exactly like the thought of him knowing something like _that _about her- and she'd need to come up with a lie about that as soon as possible; she could _not _have him running around knowing the truth about her-, she had to admit that the book _was _kind of interesting…

"Hey," her father's voice said, breaking her out of her train of thought and prompting to look up to see him standing in the door of her room. "Your mom made waffles."

"Uh… OK," Claire said, uncertain what else she could say in this kind of situation; she could be polite, at least, but she still wasn't sure how things were going to be with her insistence that Peter remain and her father's apparent desire to get him out of the house. "I'll be down in a minute."

"You were right to be angry," her father said as he stepped into the room, not even waiting to better determine how she might feel about his entrance, moving to sit down on a chair near her bed. "You tried to talk to me and I lost my temper. I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Claire said, shaking her head reassuringly; the last thing she wanted was to make him too annoyed with her in case it endangered Peter. "I shouldn't have ambushed you with all those questions-"

"No, of _course _you should, Claire," her father replied, shaking his head as he looked sympathetically at her. "I've asked you to carry around a heck of a secret, and.… I think sometimes I don't appreciate how difficult that must be. Peter gives you someone you can be yourself with; in a situation like this, you… well, you could probably use someone like that, and I should just be grateful that you managed to find someone who we can both trust to be discreet about it."

He smiled reassuringly at her. "So, if you have anything you want to ask me, as long as we're in the privacy of our own home, please, ask away."

Claire didn't need to think much about what question she could ask; the most obvious thing she wanted the answer to was already clear in her mind.

"If someone here found out about Peter or me, what would happen?"

"We'd have to leave California immediately," her father replied, his tone and expression grim as he looked at her. "Go deeper into hiding; maybe forgo schools and jobs altogether. And as for Peter…"

He sighed slightly. "Well, that would really all depend on what kind of situation we were in at the time; if whoever found out about us knew about _him_, we'd take him with us, but if they only knew about _him_, we'd have to send him off somewhere else to stop anyone finding out why we were hiding someone who could do… everything that Peter could do…"

After a moment's silence, evidently giving Claire time to contemplate what he had said, her father smiled slightly at her in a reassuring manner. "That's worst-case scenario, though; even if we have to leave, it may never come to that."

Despite her father's attempted reassurance, even as he walked out of her room, Claire had already made up her mind about what she was about to do.

If Peter was going to stay (with her) _safe_, she had to convince West that he _didn't _see what he'd seen as soon as possible.

* * *

"It was a pedicure," she told West as soon as she saw him at his locker.

"I'm sorry?" West asked, looking for a moment as though he was trying to stop himself from laughing.

"The other night?" Claire replied; she knew that it wasn't the best cover story, but if she provided him with at least _some _kind of explanation maybe he'd be prepared to leave it at that and not poke around any further and discover Peter. "That's what I was doing; I was giving myself a pedicure."

"You're not very good at it," West replied, his tone making it clear that he didn't believe the story for an instant as he closed his locker and walked away, Claire close behind him.

"What _is _it with you creeping around my house at night anyway?" she countered, rapidly deciding to change tactics as she walked after him; maybe if she confronted him about his own inappropriate behaviour, he'd be less inclined to focus on what she'd been doing when he was there in the first place.

"Just tryin' to lend you a book," West replied, his voice suggesting that it was a perfectly reasonable thing to try and give someone a book at around ten o'clock at night.

"OK, y'know what?" Claire said, glaring slightly at him as she held her hands together in an attempt to better emphasis her point. "If I _want _to start a book club with you, I'll let you know; until then, just stay away from me."

"Will do," West said, turning back to face her directly. "Just walk me through this one last time; I _didn't _see you cut off your toe, is that right?"

"The bottle of nail polish fell over and it just _looked_ like it was bleeding," Claire countered, privately wishing that she sounded as confident as she wanted to.

"Improvising is _really_ not your forte-" West began, smiling at her as he spoke.

"Why are you such a smart-ass?" Claire yelled at him; she couldn't _believe _how effortlessly this guy was managing to annoy her!

"Why are you so bad at lying?" West retorted; he now seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh as he spoke to her.

"I'm _not _lying," Claire retorted, smirking at him in a manner that she hoped would reinforce her (Admittedly fictional) point and get him to back off.

"Fine then," West said, sounding almost dismissive about her story. "You gave yourself a pedicure, _and_ your toe came off and then grew back on; works for me."

"I'm going to class," Claire groaned, walking past him in a manner that she was fairly certain would make it clear that she regarded him as an idiot for believing what he thought he'd seen.

"Don't do your nails on the way," West called after her as she stormed off.

She was beginning to realise why her father had insisted they move so far from Odessa; she was _really _not that good at lying to people…

* * *

As Claire sat down in biology class moments before the bell rang, she tried to ignore West as he sat down beside her- God, couldn't the guy take a _hint_?- and concentrate on the matter at hand; biology might not be her _favourite _subject, but at least yesterday's lesson had shown that she could find something interesting about it.

"All right," Mr Zern said, looking around at the group of students before him as he stood up at the front of the class. "Today we are talking about mitosis. Yes, West?" he added, as the boy in question raised his hand.

"I have a question about yesterday's topic; regeneration in lizards," West replied; Claire wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or frustrated that he didn't even have the decency to look at her as he potentially prepared to reveal her secret to everyone in the classroom. "Now I know you said humans couldn't regenerate, but what if a lizard were to _mate _with a human? Could their offspring do it? Because I _think _I met a lizard girl."

Claire couldn't believe it; did this guy had _no _sense of privacy as far as she was concerned? What the _hell _gave him the right to talk so… _casually_… about something that she thought she'd made it clear she wanted to keep to herself?

"This doesn't strike me as a productive conversation, West," Mr Zern replied; Claire was so stunned at West's lack of sensitivity that she barely even registered that at least Mr Zern didn't take his topic seriously.

"But seriously," West continued, once gain displaying a staggering lack of concern for her feelings as he continued to speak, "what if that lizard girl were to… accidentally… cut off her arm?"

As he turned briefly to look at Claire as he spoke, she tried to smile in a manner that suggested she was asking everyone to humour the crazy person she was sitting beside, but at the same time she knew that she was failing miserably.

"Or a leg?" West continued. "Or… you name the appendage… in some kind of… horrifying spa debacle?"

Claire briefly wondered if she could get away with at least slapping West on the grounds that he was being an idiot and distracting them from their lesson

"Where exactly are you going with this?" Mr Zern asked, his arms folded as he looked critically at West.

"Would said appendage reattach itself back onto her… _lizard_ body?" West asked, his tone still that same mixture of casual and teasing that suggested he was about to give her away without actually doing so.

It was the amused smile on his face- as though he honestly thought he was doing nothing wrong by revealing her greatest secret to almost the entire class- that finally forced Claire past the point where she could take what she was hearing. Unwilling to hear this _jerk_ talk about her any more- even if he wasn't saying her name-, she pushed her chair out, stood up, and walked out of the classroom; if anyone asked, she'd just say that she needed to go to the toilet due to a slight case of food poisoning or something like that.


	7. The Other Guy

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: OK, I know that the last chapter didn't feature that many changes to canon; however, I have a feeling that people will be VERY satisfied with how things turn out here…

It'll be strongly anti-West, I admit it freely, but I can't help it; I really did _not _like the guy and I just can't bring myself to even _try _and portray him in a more positive manner

A Leap to Safety

As Claire stood on the stairs leading from the school courtyard to the upper levels, fighting the urge to cry- why couldn't that jerk just shut _up_ for once and realise how much she did _not _want to talk about her ability?-, the sound of footsteps behind her barely even registered as she fumed over West's actions.

Did that idiot just not _care _about how she might feel about things? Did he just see her heal and decide 'Hey, I want to be the confidant of the girl with superpowers' or something like that? If she wanted somebody to replace Zach she'd _ask _for someone to help her explore her powers; couldn't West realise that she didn't _want _to tell him _everything _about her abilities?

He was just lucky that it was only her he knew about, if he tried anything to expose what _Peter _could do…

Well, she had a feeling she'd be repeating what she'd done to Brody Mitchum all over again… except that _this _time she'd go to more effort o make sure he _hurt_.

Exposing her was one thing.

If this guy even _tried _to hurt Peter, when all he'd done with his powers was try to save people even when he'd never even met them and had every reason to believe he'd _die_ even if he succeeded?

That she could _never _forgive…

"I take it you're annoyed," the voice of the boy in question said from behind her.

Claire couldn't believe it; was this idiot mentally handicapped or something? Could he not _see _how much what he was doing was hurting her feelings? Did he seriously _still _think she'd have _any _interest in talking to him?

"What is it, West?" she asked, turning around to glare at the boy who'd been nothing but a pain in her neck since she'd started here. "Huh? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to admit you're different," West replied, almost sounding like he couldn't understand why she was making such a big deal out of his actions.

His casual attitude, more than anything, was what made Claire finally snap.

"Okay, fine," she said, her voice so low that she felt almost like she was growling at him. "I'm a freak. Alright?"

"Claire-" West began; it was the slightly pitying sigh, combined with the look on his face, that pushed Claire even further over the edge.

"I am such a freak, in fact, that I have to tip-toe around this school pretending to be a brainless Barbie doll so nobody notices how different I am. 'Cause if they found out,-" she paused for a moment, fighting to stop herself from crying at the thought of herself or Peter being captured and treated like some sick experiment, before she continued, "I'd be carted off to some human zoo where I'd be poked and prodded at for the rest of my life. So yeah, West, I'm _different_. And you can tell the world if you want to because I'm _tired_ of pretending to be someone I'm not.

"Claire," West said, stepping forward so that he was standing right in front of her. "Shut up."

With that, he reached out, took her in his arms, and before Claire could even object to his actions, she found herself at least several feet off the ground and rising all the time.

_Oh my God_… Claire thought to herself as she stared out at her surroundings, the ever-decreasing form of Coasta Verda spread out below her as she and West rose upwards until they were literally above the clouds. _He can _fly…

She knew that this ability was possible, of course- it was her bio-dad's power, after all; even if she'd never seen it in action, Peter _had _told her what his brother was capable of- but knowing it and _seeing _it- more, _experiencing _it- were two _totally _different things…

* * *

Claire had almost lost track of how long and how far the two of them had flown- she knew that they'd spent a bit of time over the ocean before turning back, but she'd stopped looking at her watch after he'd turned towards the coast, and there wasn't exactly any convenient landmarks out there- but eventually West finally turned around and headed back towards the mainland, landing on a coastal beach just a few miles away from where they'd started their wild flight.

For a moment, the two of them simply sat in silence, staring reflectively out at the ocean that they had so recently flown over, before West finally broke the silence.

"Look," he said, turning to face her as he spoke, "sorry I pushed you like that; it's just that… well, what can I say? It's not _every _day you meet a girl who can do something ascool as what you can do!"

"_I've _got the cool ability?" Claire replied, shaking her head as she looked at him; it was almost hard to reconcile this enthusiastic wide-eyed kid with the creep he'd been back in school. "I think yours is cooler. Any time your parents get annoying, you can just open the window and… take off."

"Are you _kidding_?" West said, laughing incredulously at her. "You're _indestructible_! You can skydive without a parachute!"

"You can skydive without a _plane_," Claire pointed out.

"Uh…" West said, pausing for a moment after the two exchanged a brief laugh, "you can eat _fire _just for kicks-"

"I _feel _pain," Claire corrected, looking pointedly at him as she spoke; the memory of getting most of her flesh nearly burned off her by Ted was something that she felt she'd always remember. "I just… get over it quickly."

"So," West asked, turning to look at her, "how would it feel then, if I…"

He reached up and pinched her left ear. "If I do _this_."

Claire wasn't sure how it happened after that; one minute West was reaching up to try and pinch her ear again, the next she'd slipped onto her back, he was leaning forward, their lips had met…

As soon as her lips had made contact with his, Claire pulled away, cursing herself simultaneously for kissing him and for not _wanting _to kiss him.

She couldn't believe; here she was, faced with a cute guy who knew her secret and _wasn't _freaked out by it-

Claire froze.

That was the reason she'd cut the kiss off like that; the only reason this guy wasn't freaked out by it because he had a power himself.

Hell, the only reason he was even _talking _to her was because she could 'do something cool'…

He had initially dismissed her as just another blonde girl at school until he'd walked in on her after she'd jumped off that tower in the gym and seen her leg heal like that…

Then he'd spent _ages _pressuring her to reveal the 'truth' about herself straight away, rather than just making more of an effort to get to know her and wait until she felt _comfortable _telling him about it in her own time…

And now that he knew her secret and she knew his… what?

Did West _honestly_ think that she'd like him any more than she had earlier just because he had a power like she did?

OK, so maybe she'd have gone along with it if she _had _been on her own with her secret- having to keep this kind of thing quiet from _everybody _was a bit frustrating, to say the least; West might have been a jerk, but at least he was a jerk who had _some _idea of what it was like for her-, but the fact of the matter was…

She _wasn't _alone.

Even if he didn't remember what they'd been through, she had Peter Petrelli- her hero, her protector, the man she (_her uncle_; she would _not _think… the other thing)- in her life once again.

Compared to him, even without his earlier pain-in-the-neck, tell-me-the-truth-because-_I_-want-to-know attitude to take into account, West was such a _child_ he barely even deserved to be more than an _afterthought_ when Peter was still in her life.

"What?" West asked, breaking into her train of thought as he reached up for her face as though he wanted to continue where they'd left off. "Is something wrong?"

That, more than anything, made Claire's mind up; at least _Peter _always _knew _when something was wrong.

Plus, of course, there was the simple fact that he had _never _made her as uncomfortable as West had made her feel these last few days unless he had a good reason; she might not have _liked _the fact that he'd wanted her to shoot him in the head if he lost control, but at least he'd only asked her to do it because he wanted to be certain he wouldn't hurt anybody.

"Take me home," she said, standing up and staring coldly down at him.

"What?" West replied, standing up to look back at her (Claire was convinced he'd only done that to try and gain the height advantage, but it wasn't going to work; after seeing Sylar cut Jackie's head partly in half and Ted and Peter nearly triggering the new Hiroshima right in front of her, this guy wasn't even _close _to being scary). "But I thought we-"

"I _said_," Claire repeated, folding her arms resolutely as she turned to look directly at West, "take. Me. Home. OK?"

She knew that she was being a bit blunt, but right now she was more concerned about making a point than making a good impression; she'd already made one mistake with this guy- coming out this far from home- and she was _not _about to make another one.

West might have a power, but that didn't mean she wanted to spend more time with him than she had to; he was still the same pain in the neck he'd been earlier, and the fact that he could fly didn't do _anything _to change that.

She'd just be nice enough to him right now to guarantee that he'd take her back rather than leave her all the way out here to make her own way back to Coasta Verda, but after that, she'd be perfectly satisfied if she _never _spoke to this guy again.

* * *

As Noah Bennet sat in front of his computer, waiting patiently for Doctor Suresh's latest check-in, he wished that he could regain the same sense of control he'd had when he was working for the Company now that he was working against them.

It had all been going fairly well so far, of course- Mohinder was in with the main players of the Company without anyone being any the wiser, the Haitian was back, they had a clear goal in mind in their search for the Series of Eight-, but the continued uncertainty of Peter's presence in his family's life added an uncertain 'X-Factor' to his plans that he didn't particularly like.

And as for everything the Haitian had said about a 'bond' between Peter and Claire that was 'greater than biology'…

He wasn't sure if he should be worried about the implications there or not. Even if the Haitian was implying what he thought he was, surely neither of them would actually _do _anything about it; Peter was too noble a person to get involved with someone Claire's age even if he didn't remember their biological connection, and Claire wouldn't try anything when Peter didn't even remember who he was…

The ringing of his cellphone distracted him from his inner reflections, prompting him to reach into his pocket and answer it, only briefly glancing at the number to confirm that it was Mohinder.

"Hello," he said, grateful to hear from the other man again; at least _that _part of the plan was still working out like he'd expected. "How are things going over there?"

"_They're moving the paintings somewhere_," Mohinder said; his hurried tone, coupled with the sound of movement suggesting that paintings were being removed from boxes and examined, made it clear to Noah that he had simply seized the first available free moments available to him to call, most likely while his 'supervisor'- whoever it was- had stepped outside for some reason. "_There's only a few crates left- This was a _terrible _idea, this guy's watching my every move; I can't do this, I'm in over my head_-"

"I told you," Noah said, his own voice calm as he spoke, trying to reassure the Indian doctor- the man's heart was in the right place but his lack of experience in these matters didn't exactly help him-, "you have no reason to worry; as long as I'm alive, you will be taken care of."

"_That's exactly the problem_," Mohinder replied grimly; the faint sound of motion on the other end suggested that he'd pulled a painting out of a box.

"What are you talking about?" Noah asked, allowing only the slightest trace of confusion to enter his voice; if he gave the impression that he didn't feel in control of the situation, whatever faith Mohinder had in him to keep him safe would be at the very least significantly weakened.

"_I'm sending you a JPEG of a painting I found_," Mohinder replied, prompting Noah to turn around and activate the necessary program on his laptop to receive the image. "_The rest have been shipped off somewhere. It's the last in the series; Eight of Eight_."

"We know how it begins," Noah said, his eyes automatically directed at the only image of the Series of Eight they possessed; Kaito's body lying on the ground, surrounded by blood. "With the death of Kaito Nakamura… but how does it _end_?"

"_Not well, I'm afraid_," Mohinder replied grimly.

As the image finally completed its transmission and appeared on his screen, Noah could only state in shock at the picture before him.

It was him- it couldn't be anyone else; he even recognised the shirt he was wearing-, lying on the ground, the left lense of his glasses cracked and what was clearly a bullet-hole in his left eye.

It was the figures behind his body that shocked him the most, however.

Mendez's painting style didn't make it clear, of course- the graphic novel medium may have helped him pay his bills but sometimes it made it hard to read faces; it was one reason Noah had never really managed to get into the genre even after he'd started work at the Company-, and the male figure was so dark that it was hard to be certain, but it looked worryingly like Claire was standing over his body, _kissing _Peter Petrelli…

_No_, Bennett reminded himself, looking probingly at the picture before him.

The injury he'd sustained in the image might be undeniably fatal, but he'd learned the hard way when he was trying to save Claire from Sylar that Isaac's paintings gave no indication of context; just because it _looked _like Peter was kissing Claire here didn't mean that he was- he could just as easily have been comforting her as she cried; expressions weren't exactly the man's speciality when only part of the face was shown-, even assuming it _was _Peter in the picture before him…

Glancing off to the side, Noah saw Claire standing outside the glass door that separated his new 'office' from the rest of the house, prompting him to quickly close the window showing the painting- the last thing he needed was for them to get into _another _argument, and he had little doubt that there'd be one if Claire saw the picture wanted to know what he was doing looking at something like that- as he turned to look at her.

After the two of them had stared silently at each other for a moment, Noah took it upon himself to break the silence.

"Night, Claire," he said simply.

"Night, Dad," Claire replied, her own tone giving away nothing about what she might or might not have seen- it could just as easily have been the result of a tiring day at school as it could have been her disliking his attempts to conceal the image from her- before she turned around and walked away towards the stairs.

As her footsteps faded, Noah activated the picture again, staring silently at it for a few moments as he studied the figures standing behind his body.

Now that he thought about it, the way Claire's skirt was spread out _could _suggest that she'd been moving before the moment when Isaac painted the picture; maybe Peter- or whoever the man was- had grabbed her as she ran to stop her from really seeing his body, and her eyes were closed because she'd been crying or something…

_No_, Noah told himself.

Trying to read a deeper meaning in the painting was pointless until he actually knew more about the events that had led up to it, and he would only learn that once he or Mohinder had found more of the Series of Eight.

Until then, he reflected as he closed his laptop, all he could do was try and avoid being in a position where he'd be likely to get shot and hope that would be enough…


	8. In His Place

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

As Noah sat at the breakfast table the next morning, temporarily alone in the kitchen- Sandra was out for a walk with the dog and Claire, Lyle and Peter were all still asleep-, he couldn't stop himself from continuing to stare at the picture Mohinder had sent him the previous night, still trying to determine the meaning behind the image.

What events would take place to put him, Claire and (Presumably) Peter in this situation? Had Peter learned something about his time in the Company and killed him with a fine-placed nuclear blast (He had no way to know for sure if he'd actually been shot with a _bullet_; it could as easily have been Peter's powers)? Had someone discovered them and Peter had only been able to protect Claire while leaving Noah open for attack? Had Peter and Claire decided to run away and taken action to stop him-?

Noah cut off that line of thought before it could go further; he was needlessly speculating right now. If nothing else, while Peter was still the most likely 'suspect' for the identity of the male figure in the painting there was still nothing definitely known either way; for all that he knew it could be somebody Claire had met at school…

Even as Noah thought that, however, he dismissed it. Even if he didn't entirely _approve _of Claire's… bond with Peter, he couldn't deny that it was there; with the man who meant so much to her in her house already, why would Claire even bother _looking _for a boy to… form _that _kind of relationship with… at school?

The sound of a door opening prompted Noah to look up as Sandra walked into the kitchen, Mr Muggles in her arms, providing him with a welcome distraction from his increasingly-circular thoughts; maybe if he got another opinion on the situation- without actually revealing the full details of it, of course- he'd feel better.

"Mr Muggles and I just did two whole miles at the beach," she said by way of explanation as she headed for the cupboard where they kept the dog food. "You wouldn't know it looking at him, but this dog can power walk."

"Have you talked to Claire lately?" Noah asked, moving to shut down the laptop as he spoke; testing the waters to try and work out how things were with Claire and Peter was a good idea in theory, but he didn't want to give Sandra anything explicit to worry about.

"About what?" Sandra replied, as she took a can of dog food out of the cupboard and began to open it for Mr Muggles, who was now sitting on the floor looking eagerly up at her.

"Oh, just about how she's… adjusting," Noah said casually; he had to phrase this in a manner that wouldn't give away anything about his suspicions while still providing him with the information he was looking for. "How about Peter? Has she said anything about him?"

"You mean how he's doing here?" Sandra asked, smiling slightly over at her husband. "Apart from helping him get the hang of copying her power again, not really; she says she wants him to get the hang of copying her power before she tries him on anything else. Why do you ask?"

"Just… concerned, I suppose," Noah replied, privately relieved that Peter hadn't started to experiment with his more… volatile powers yet (The longer it took him to tap into the more offensive abilities he possessed, such as Niki Sanders' strength or Ted's ability to generate radiation, the more comfortable Noah would be). "He's potentially the most powerful man on the planet, but he's currently got no idea how to use his abilities; if the wrong people found out he was here, it could get very… difficult."

Further conversation was temporarily cut off as Claire came down the stairs, prompting Noah and Sandra to turn to look at her, each wondering if their daughter had heard what they'd been discussing and wondering what she would have to say about it.

"Is there something on my face?" Claire asked, after the three of them had stared silently at each other for a few moments.

"Claire, your mother and I need to talk to you," Noah said- grateful that _she'd _been the one to break the silence; it made things a bit easier for him and Sandra in the short term at least-, as he turned to look at her as Sandra moved to a position just behind him. "About… well, about Peter"

"If this is about asking me to let you send him away or something again-" Claire began, assuming the same resolute expression that she'd had when Noah had brought the idea up during their brief confrontation at Copy Kingdom.

"Nobody is going to make Peter go anywhere, we just have to be _careful_ about who knows about us," Noah said; the last thing he wanted was for Claire to start defending Peter again (He could assure himself that nothing would happen between them, but when Claire started talking so passionately about her _uncle _he felt he was only within his rights as a father to be at least a _little _uncomfortable). "_Any_ outsider who discovers Peter's presence here- or even discovered what the two of you can do- could be… a threat to the family-"

"Look," Claire said, holding up a hand as she glared pointedly at him, "I get that you're worried, Dad, but nobody at school has even the slightest _idea _there's somebody else here apart from the four of us, and I always shut the curtains and go to the spare room when I'm helping Peter get the hang of his powers; the only way someone could find out about him is if they had abilities _themselves_, and I don't really see them going to the news about it when we can do the same thing to them, wouldn't you agree?"

Her initial defence now completed, Claire assumed a calmer expression as she looked at her parents (Noah wasn't sure whether to be grateful or concerned at her vehement defence of Peter; while it made it clear that she wouldn't do anything to risk him, it _did _leave him wondering how much she felt for her uncle).

"Besides," Claire continued, "who would I tell? Nobody's even registered me as anything more than the blonde girl who sits around the middle of the classes and doesn't talk much to people; why would somebody want to know if I have a… friend of the family staying?"

"Friend of the family?" Noah repeated, looking curiously at Claire (He ignored the part about her sitting around the middle of the classes; so long as she wasn't _specifically_ in the middle, it wasn't like it was attracting too much attention by sitting in a distinctive place).

"Just what I thought I could use as a story in case somebody _does _ask about Peter after seeing him for some reason; I'll just say he's a friend of the family and leave it at that," Claire explained, shrugging casually. "I'm not going to bring it up unless somebody actually _sees _him, of course; I just figured it was best to have a cover story in case it happens."

Sitting silently opposite her, Noah finally nodded.

"OK," he said simply, smiling reassuringly at her. "Good cover story."

"Thanks," Claire replied with a slight smile of her own. "Given that I might want to take Peter outside at some point- I don't want to risk making a hole in the roof when he tries to fly or something, you know-, I figured it would be best to have something to explain what he's doing here-"

"Taking him outside?" Noah repeated, looking at her with a renewed sense of urgency; someone _seeing _Peter outside would _definitely _risk their cover. "Claire, that's too-"

"I'll do it once he's remembered how to turn invisible, of course; I'm not _stupid_, Dad," Claire cut in, looking back at him in frustration. "Look, you need to accept that Peter's going to need to go around if he's going to learn how to use some of his abilities; we can't just keep him locked up like he's some _prisoner_. He needs help; I'm just… trying to do everything I can to give him that help."

After another brief pause, Noah nodded.

"Well… I can't fault your reasoning," he said, smiling slightly at her. "Just so long as you let us know when Peter reaches the stage where you're going outside, OK?"

"OK," Claire replied, smiling back at her father.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Claire had just finished sorting through her bag and her locker to pick out the books she'd need for her next classes when a girl in a cheerleading uniform- she was fairly sure the girl's name was May, based on what she'd heard around school; she just hadn't had the chance to talk to her yet- walked up beside her and held a sheet of paper out in front of her.

"What's that?" Claire asked, turning to look at May as she leaned against her locker door.

"Parental release form to try out for the cheerleading squad," May replied, a smile on her face as she looked at the other girl.

"For me?" Claire said, looking at May in surprise.

"Yep," the other girl replied, her smile- if possible- growing even broader.

Claire couldn't believe it; after all the trouble she'd had applying for the squad at her last school, now people were just _giving _her the form?

"I'm flattered…" she said, smiling slightly to conceal the slight pang of disappointment she felt at the realisation that nothing could come of May's kindness, "but… I don't think I can squeeze cheerleading into my schedule."

"But you're kind of a hero to the girls in the squad!" May said, incredulity evident in her tone as she looked at Claire.

"A hero?" Claire repeated, looking at May in confusion. "Why?"

"The way you stood up to Debbie on your first day," May said by way of explanation

"Y'know, half of being a cheerleader is having guts, and _you _have got those in spades."

Claire smiled slightly and looked down at the ground, trying to appear more embarrassed than she was; after having the courage to be prepared to shoot the man she loved- regardless of the fact that she hadn't done it in the end, she'd still been prepared to do so; that had to count for _something_, right?-, being praised by her peers for standing up to some girl didn't mean _that _much to her, but it was still nice to be appreciated…

"I'll tell you what," she said, looking back at May as she came to a decision; she'd need to talk to her father about it, but she had a feeling things would work out if she phrased it the right way. "I'll think about it, and then I'll let you know if I change my mind."

"Good!" May replied, smiling back at her. "Then take the release form, just in case."

As soon as Claire had taken the release form, May turned and walked away- evidently she had something else to do at the moment- giving Claire only a brief moment to close her locker before she glanced up and saw that West was walking up to her, a broad smile on his face.

_Oh, _great… Claire groaned, as the boy in question walked towards her. Him _again_…

It was her own fault, she supposed; she'd been so uncomfortable after kissing him that she'd just walked away from him after he'd dropped her off back at school, waving off his attempts to talk to her by saying that she'd see him tomorrow.

"Hi," West said, still grinning broadly at her despite the fact that she'd kept her expression neutral when she saw him; she might not like the guy, but he at least deserved to hear her reasons calmly and clearly.

"Hi," Claire replied briefly, making sure that her locker was closed before she walked off.

"I can't stop thinking about yesterday," West continued as she began to walk towards her next class, walking along beside her as he spoke. "It was so amazing; I finally have somebody I can be myself with-"

"Excuse me?" Claire cut in, turning to glare at West as the bell rang; class could wait for a few moments, but right now she had to make her feelings to this guy clear. "We share _one _flight and suddenly you think I _like _you?"

West blinked, evidently not having expected her to react like that.

_Another way in which he's different from Peter_, Claire reflected to herself. _He might not be perfect, but at least he knows more about people; looks like this guy _seriously _thought I'd see him differently now that I know his 'secret'_…

"But…" he said, looking in surprise at her. "I mean… we're both _different_-"

"And that's _all _we have in common, _West_; it's not _really _enough to build anything more than friendship on, and after the way you acted before I'm not even interested in _that_," Claire retorted, walking slightly closer to him to look the other 'special' directly in the eyes to better reinforce her point. "Get the picture, West; as far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but a kid who can go a little higher than most people. Your ability's cool, yeah, but that's pretty much all you've got going for you; I'm not going to date a guy just because of _that_."

"But we _flew _together-" West began again, now looking almost desperate; if Claire hadn't had the memory of his earlier attitude to 'support' her current actions, she might have almost felt sorry for him.

"Do I have to spell it out for you, _boy_?" Claire countered, not even stopping to think about using the word 'boy' to refer to someone who could only be about her age at least; if he wouldn't understand it when she tried to be nice to him, she'd just have to get tough and hope that it would make more of an impression. "You're nothing but a kid with an extra trick; as far as I'm concerned, you're still the same pain in the ass you _always _were, understood?"

"But… but I'm not _just _that!" West yelled, looking almost desperately at Claire. "C'mon, I was only acting that way because I wanted you to admit-"

"That I'm 'different'?" Claire interjected, her gaze still cold as she looked at West. "I'm not _just _the girl who can heal, West, but that seemed to be the only thing you were even remotely interested in learning about. There's more to me than my ability, but you clearly weren't care about that; have you even bothered to find out anything _else _about me since you saw my leg heal? Do you even know if I have any brothers or sisters, do you know if I have any other family in the area, do you even know where I went to school before I came _here_?"

West's blank look as she listed off the various topics was all the answer she needed.

"That just proves my point; I'm really just the girl who heals herself to you, aren't I?" she said, smirking at him before her eyes narrowed. "Get the picture, _West_; I'm. Not. Interested."

"Not even-" West began.

"Not even _one _date," Claire countered, glaring at him as she pointed a finger at him. "Now do yourself a favour and get lost before I add 'stalker' to my list."

For a moment West simply stared back at her, his face a perfect display of confusion and what a part of Claire guilty recognised as disappointment, before he sighed and nodded in resignation.

"Fine," he said simply, his tone sullen with more than a slight trace of bitterness about it. "I'll just… go."

Even as he turned and walked away, however, Claire didn't once think that she might have made the wrong decision by not giving him a chance.

West might have been the 'sensible' choice in terms of someone she could see romantically- at least he was her age and _not _related to her-, but Claire seriously couldn't see anything attractive about him; he defined himself by what he could do that everyone else couldn't, he'd only wanted to talk to her because she was the only other person he'd met with a power, and hadn't cared about anything other than that.

Peter… even when he hadn't known her name, he'd come to rescue her, not because he'd known about her power- Hell, for all he knew she might not have even _had _a power-, but just because it was the right thing to do.

He was a hero; West was just a pathetic creep.

Trying to 'replace' Peter with West would have been a bad idea no matter what kind of situation she'd been in when they'd met; trying to do it when Peter was here to remind her of what he'd done wouldn't only have been stupid, it would have been insulting.

Putting thoughts of West out of her mind, Claire turned around and headed for her next class, her mind filled with thoughts of Peter's next 'lesson', unaware of West's eyes on her back as he glared after her.


	9. The Painting

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Sorry about the delay; with the new series airing I've been trying to plan some of my future plotlines to prevent making things too difficult- I don't like to contradict stuff that we might find out about the Heroes' pasts-, as well as working out how some changes I was planning to make to the Season Two plot might impact the way things are going now.

A Leap to Safety

As Claire sat at the dinner table, casually picking at her food as she looked around at her family, she allowed herself a slight sigh of relief as she once again reflected on how grateful she was that she'd settled things with West. Putting aside just how much of a _prat _he'd proven himself to be- she was almost amazed that he _could _fly, given how big his head seemed to be with that ridiculously inflated opinion of himself-, she already had enough problems trying to cope with the Peter situation without the hassle that would have arisen if she'd tried to _date_ him, what with her father's 'rule' not to draw attention to themselves while here.

As it was, all she had to do was not tell anyone about peter and help him regain control of his abilities; if anyone asked about her lack of a social life, she had the ready-made excuse of looking after a visiting sick relative, and all was well.

"I thought," her mother said, Mr Muggles tucked under one arm as she looked around at her family, breaking into Claire's train of thought as she continued to eat, "for desert, we could go to that _adorable_ yoghurt place near the bus depot."

"Uh… sorry, but I can't," Claire said, looking apologetically around at the others; she was nearly finished her food anyway, so the sooner she told them what she was doing the better. "Peter and I still need to work on his powers; he's getting the hang of how to use _my _ability when I'm not there, but he needs to start learning how to use the others if he's going to make any kind of progress."

"Any plans on what ability you'll be starting with?" Noah asked, looking critically at her as though he was going to 'grade' her based on which power she decided to focus on.

"I was thinking just his… painting skills at first; it's a relatively simple power to tap into and it might even provide us with some information about what happened to him," Claire replied, looking casually back at her father. "How's that?"

"Good call," her father said, nodding back at her before his eyes narrowed. "Just let me know if he paints anything that looks… significant; forewarned is forearmed, after all."

Noting Claire's sceptical look at him, her father smiled. "I still have a couple of contacts I can talk to if Peter paints something big enough to be worried about; it should be simple enough to let them know what the problem is without tipping anyone off to where we are."

Claire simply nodded at that before returning her attention to her food, already mentally going over her training strategy for once her family had left.

Painting _would _be something she'd help Peter tap into, of course, but there was also his invisibility to think about (And that was _not _because it would make it easier for her to sneak him out of the house later on; it was just because it was a simple enough power and it would be easy to find out if he was using it properly or not without any risks)…

* * *

After her parents and Lyle had left for the yoghurt place that her mother had mentioned- her mother promising to bring her back something to eat to make up for her not being able to go herself-, Claire found herself sitting in her bedroom, staring silently at her phone as she contemplated what she was about to do.

With Peter currently asleep- her attempts to help him learn how to regain his powers might be necessary, but they could also be rather tiring; he'd only really managed to - and nobody else to bother her, it was time for Claire to do something that she should have done as soon as Peter had arrived in her room.

She had to call Nathan.

She wasn't sure if Peter was ready to actually _talk _to his brother, of course- especially not when the last time he'd seen the guy as far as she knew was when he was about to go nuclear-, but maybe if she could talk to him he might be able to offer some suggestions about what to do with Peter now or something like that.

He might be a prat at times- his role in the plan to blow up New York proved that much-, but he'd shown that he was still a decent guy for all that; even if he couldn't offer much in the way of help, a fresh perspective might be just what she needed to get a better idea of how to help Peter…

Quickly dialling in the number that not even her parents knew she currently possessed, she raised the phone to her ear, waiting patiently for a few moments before the ringing finally stopped.

"Hello?" Claire asked, after she had waited for a few minutes for the person on the other end to respond and received nothing in return. "Are you there?"

"_Claire_?" Nathan's voice said on the other end of the line; to his credit, he sounded more coherent than he had the last time the two of them had spoken, but Claire still worried that he sounded too grim to be any real help to her in her current problem. "_I thought I told you not to call me again_-"

"I _know_," Claire replied. "But this is _important_; something's-"

"_Look, Claire, this _really _isn't a good time for me to talk to you_," Nathan interrupted; Claire was so surprised to hear her father acting this resolute about anything after the almost apathetic state he'd been in following the explosion that she "_My mother's being accused of murder, at least four other people are still in danger while also being the only suspects we've got, and not only is the only lead I've got from a twelve-year-old girl in a coma, but the only person willing to _help _me deal with this is a guy who can read minds who's still trying to deal with his _own _issues. So unless you've got something to say that can help me tackle this, I'd appreciate _not _being interrupted; we're still trying to figure out our next move right now_."

Claire knew that her father had a point.

Given the situation that he was dealing with right now, this _wasn't _a good time for her to talk to him.

Equally, it wasn't a good time for him to learn that his brother was still alive.

If what he'd said was an accurate description of the crisis he was dealing with, Nathan had enough on his plate right now; if he knew that Peter was here, it would only give him something else to worry about, particularly since it sounded like he already had more immediate concerns.

Peter could wait a few more days to meet his brother again; from what Nathan had just said, he almost definitely needed to focus on his current problem right now.

Admittedly, she wasn't sure if clearing the woman who'd been willing to let Peter blow up New York was a particularly smart move- as far as she was concerned the woman _deserved _whatever happened to her- but she had to admire his resolve; her bio-dad had _definitely _changed from the guy who'd been willing to let New York get incinerated just to carry out some demented plan that he'd only been told about a few days before it happened.

"Nothing," she said at last, sighing slightly. "It'll keep. Just… just call if you need any help from me, OK?"

"_Sure_," Nathan replied briskly before he terminated the call, leaving Claire sitting silently alone in her room.

_Well_, she mused to herself as she looked at her phone. _So much for _that _idea…_

Then she sighed, stood up, and headed for Peter's room.

She could worry about her father later; right now, since she couldn't do anything to help Nathan, she had to get started on Peter's next 'lesson'.

It wasn't exactly easy going, but, even if she had no way of helping Nathan deal with his own current crisis, at least she could be fairly sure of helping _Peter_ with his problems right now…

* * *

A few minutes later, Peter and Claire had made their way to the only remaining empty room in the house, the room in question being located just above the garage at the back of the house to limit the possibility of people seeing them.

So far this room- which Claire and Lyle had generally termed the 'back-up room', as the only possible use anyone could think of for it was as a replacement room if any of the others were occupied- was still underfurnished, possessing only a few basic essentials like a couple of chairs and a table; her father had been lucky enough to purchase the house with most of the furniture from the previous residents, but this room had been pretty much ignored by them and her family hadn't gotten around to getting new furniture for it yet.

_Which_, Claire mused as she looked over at Peter as he stood in the middle of the room, _makes it the _perfect _place to help him remember how to use his abilities_.

"So," Peter asked, looking uncertainly at Claire as she closed the door of the room behind them, "where were you last night? I mean, you got back kind of late…"

"I… had some thinking to do," Claire replied, wishing she could sound more certain when she said that; her statement might be the truth, but she still didn't exactly feel… comfortable telling Peter about the time she'd spent with West yesterday.

She knew it didn't make sense to feel like she'd done something _wrong_ by going off with West like that- it wasn't like she was _involved _with Peter in… _that _sense of the word, and it hadn't gone any further than a kiss even then- but anyone who thought that emotions were simple didn't know what they were talking about even in _normal _situations, and the one she was in right now was anything _but _normal as far as she was concerned.

"Anything in particular?" Peter asked, looking curiously at her, drawing her attention back to the matter at hand.

"Mmm? Oh, nothing major," Claire replied, shaking her head as she turned to look at Peter once again. "So, now that we've the healing thing sorted- y'know, we know that your powers are still there and everything, shall we see about working on some of your _other_ abilities?"

"Like what?" Peter asked, looking curiously at her.

"Well… you told me once that you could paint the future; maybe we could start with that?" Claire asked. "After all, it's a pretty straightforward power to use and there's not much chance of you tapping into something else when you're using it; seems like the safest option, really."

"'Safe'?" Peter repeated, looking uncertainly at her. "Are you saying… my powers are _dangerous_?"

"Only if you don't know what you're doing; I'd just like to get you started on the safer ones like painting the future or invisibility before we go on to the big stuff like that electricity thing you showed me earlier and all that," Claire assured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You just need to… work on your abilities one at a time to make sure you know what you're doing; just… I dunno… paint a few things and see what happens."

"Like what?" Peter asked, looking uncertainly at Claire. "What am I-?"

"Here," Claire said, as she reached into the bag and pulled out a few large sheets of paper, subsequently spreading them out on the floor around them as she rummaged in her bag before pulling out the painting set that she'd picked up on her way home from school that day. "Just… well, from what you told me, all you need to do is take the brush, relax, look at the canvas, and… well, paint, I guess."

"You 'guess'?" Peter repeated, looking at Claire uncertainly.

"Well, it's not like I really asked about it that much; all I really knew about it is that you once finished a painting that the guy who originally had that ability started but wasn't able to finish, and you made a few sketches of this… fire… that would have happened if we hadn't managed to stop it," Claire said, deciding to stick to the basic facts without presenting the full picture; she didn't want Peter to know how close he'd come to destroying New York until he knew _way _more than he did right now about controlling his abilities. "Look, just… try not to _think _too much about it; maybe if you just… doodle or something it'll come to you…"

Her voice trailed off as she saw Peter, staring at the piece of paper before him, assume a resolute expression mere seconds before his eyes suddenly clouded over, leaving them a blank white that made him look like he was blind. Even as Claire stared at him in confusion, Peter, seemingly no longer even aware of her presence, picked up one of the paint-brushes from the set she'd purchased, dipped the brush into the black paint, and began to paint.

Even after hearing her father's descriptions of the demonstrations he'd seen of Isaac Mendez's power, seeing Peter's eyes as they went blank was still one of the most disturbing images Claire had ever seen. Privately, she wondered if Peter was even aware of what was going on around him when that happened; did he shut down his awareness of everything around him apart from the painting, or did he just choose not to register it?

As Peter continued to paint, showing no sign of being aware of Claire's presence, she sighed and turned to walk towards the door, glancing uncomfortably back at him as she did so.

"Uh… I'm just going to get myself a quick snack, OK?" she said, cursing herself for how stupid that statement sounded as soon as it had left her mouth; he didn't even seem to _see _her now, how could he hear her?

Still… it made her feel better to know that she'd tried to tell him; it helped her feel that this whole situation was less… strange… than it might have seemed 'normally'.

* * *

Some time later- Claire hadn't really paid attention to a clock; knowing how long it could take to paint stuff she'd just grabbed a small tub of ice cream and eaten about half of it before going back up-, Claire walked back into the room, just in time to see Peter putting the finishing touches to what even her amateur eye had to admit was a fairly detailed piece of work even with only a cursory glance. Before Claire had done more than look briefly at it, however, Peter had stepped away from it and his eyes had returned to normal, leaving him staring uncertainly at the picture that was now before him.

"Uh…" the former nurse muttered, shaking his head slightly as he looked over at her, indicating the painting in confusion as he spoke. "Did I do that?"

"Yeah, that's you," Claire confirmed, walking forward to study the picture herself. It showed two figures- two figures that looked uncannily like her and Peter, she noted; at least that much was encouraging- standing in front of what looked like a shop of some kind, street signs and a cathedral visible on the right-hand-side of the painting.

"Whoa…" Peter said, looking reflectively at the picture before he turned to look at Claire. "What do you think; Montreal?"

"Well, I _suppose so_…" Claire mused, nodding thoughtfully as she studied the painting before her. "I mean, we've got that ticket, so we know you were _going _to go there; what we don't know is _why_…?"

"Good question…" Peter said, nodding uncertainly as he looked at the painting before him before he turned to look at one of the other sheets of paper. "Maybe if I just… I dunno… work on a few more…"

"You think you can?" Claire asked, looking back at him with an expression that she hoped reflected encouragement even as she found herself internally divided on the thought. On the one hand, she _did _want Peter to remember his old life- she could hardly expect him to keep living in her parents' spare room until they figured out an appropriate cover story for him-, but at the same time, if he remembered…

She shook that thought off; she had more important things to worry about than what might happen after he got his memory back.

Besides… even if he _never _remembered…

How could she just… _lie _to him like that? How could she live with herself for 'tricking' Peter into being with her? What she was doing now was one thing- there was _nothing _wrong with having the occasional fantasy about being with your amnesic uncle so long as it remained a fantasy-, but actually doing it…

If Peter never regained his memories, she'd hate herself; if he _did_, he'd hate _her_.

After a moment's thought, Peter shook his head.

"I don't think that'd help right now," he said, as he turned to look at her. "I think we need to check this place out."

Claire blinked.

"What?" she said, looking at Peter in surprise; even with the memory of how resolute he'd been to figure out how to stop the explosion those short months ago, she hadn't been expecting him to say something like _that _in his current condition.

"We need to check this place out, and I have a feeling I'm going to need to be able to defend us if things get ugly," Peter said, his tone resolute as he looked over at Claire. "Someone stuck me in that box for a reason, and I don't think it was to help me."

For a moment, he looked away from her towards a nearby window- the curtains were drawn of course, but Claire briefly found herself wondering if the ability to see through things was a power Peter had picked up since he'd last met her- before he turned back to look at her. "Whoever it was, they wanted me out of the way, and this ticket is the only clue we've got to find out why; maybe it's where I was planning to go before they caught up with me."

"And… if it's a trap?" Claire pointed out, looking uncertainly at him. "What then?"

Peter smiled.

"Hey; I don't think they were expecting me to run into _you_ when they left me there," he pointed out, reaching over to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know what I can do now, and thanks to your training I know how I can use it; I think I can-"

"_We_," Claire corrected, looking resolutely back at Peter; just because he might want to take back what he'd said earlier about 'we' didn't mean that she was going to let it go. "Look, no matter how good you're getting at this, you still haven't remembered how to use your offensive abilities; I get that you want to check this out soon, and I'm all for helping you find some answers, but if you're going _anywhere_,I'm coming with you."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked. "I mean, your dad…"

"Look, this is about helping _you_; I'm sure Dad'll… understand," Claire said (She really wished she sounded more confident; she _really _sucked at lying). "I'll talk to him about that tomorrow; in the meantime, since the painting seems to be under control, maybe we could… try your invisibility?"

Peter smiled.

"Let's go," he said simply.

* * *

Neither of them noticed, currently floating just outside the window, peering through a crack in the curtains where Claire hadn't quite drawn them completely shut, the silently-fuming form of West Rosen as he stared at the couple inside the room before him, his fists clenched in rage.

He couldn't believe it; _this _was why Claire had decided to reject him? She'd ditched the chance to spend time with a guy who could _fly _for a guy who could _paint_?

OK, so his eyes had done that whole weird… _thing _while he was painting the picture, which suggested that he wasn't _quite _your average artist, but seriously, even if he _did _have a 'power', what kind of ability was _painting _stuff?

And all that talk about 'going'… somewhere he hadn't quite been able to hear from this distance…

It was ridiculous; how the _hell _was Claire meant to go _anywhere _with a guy who had to be about _twice _her age? How could she ditch _him _for an old idiot who couldn't do anything more than _paint_ stuff?

He needed to make Claire see sense before she could do anything she'd regret when she came to her senses.

If that meant that he'd need to keep an eye on her so he'd know when she was going to… wherever she was going…

Well, he could deal with that.

_After all_, West mused to himself with a slight smile as he lifted himself up into the air and began to fly away, _how do you get away from a guy who can fly at the speed of sound_?

* * *

AN 2: OK, next chapter begins with Peter and Claire on their flight to Montreal; the essentials details about the intervening time will be mentioned, but I wanted to get right to the heart of the manner as Peter and Claire learn just what they're dealing with _this _time around, thus bringing their confrontation with Adam forward all the more promptly…


	10. House of Questions

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Not sure about what I had Peter and Claire do with the tickets here, but I'm not entirely up on airline rules and procedures, so I decided to go with this (Particularly since I couldn't think of another explanation for how Peter and Caitlin were able to get from Cork to Quebec on such short notice, given that I somehow doubt Ricky's gang would be willing to give Peter enough money to get fresh tickets to pursue such an apparent wild goose chase; the 'exchanging tickets' idea only made sense)

AN 2: Just to let you know, the encounter between Noah, the Haitian and Ivan as Noah and the Haitian searched for the last six paintings in the Series of Eight happened the same way here as it did in the show; any differences in dialogue that might have been caused by Noah thinking about Peter's presence are so minor as to not be worth writing about

A Leap to Safety

Claire almost couldn't believe how rapidly things had turned out since she'd first seen Peter on her bedroom floor. Just a few days ago she'd been thinking that she'd have to live her life pretending that the one really cool thing that had ever happened to her- hell, that the only really _important _thing she'd ever done- hadn't actually _happened_, and now, here she was, sitting beside the guy who was potentially the most powerful man on the planet as they flew all the way to Montreal.

She wasn't sure how she should be feeling in this situation, really; there were so many potential responses to the current crisis- the most powerful guy alive didn't remember who he was or what he could do; it wasn't exactly an _easy _situation to be in- that she still wasn't entirely sure _how _she should feel about it.

On the one hand, they didn't know _what _they were getting into by doing on this particular little 'search', given that they still had no way of knowing why Peter had painted them outside that building, or even how Peter had gone from being several hundred feet above New York to being in a metal box somewhere (She couldn't remember if he'd ever mentioned where he _thought _the box had been)…

But, on the other hand, she was doing something to help the guy who might be the most powerful man on the planet- and the guy who was _definitely _her hero- find out who he was and what had happened to him.

It might sound a little childish, but how could she _not _be enthusiastic about that?

Mainly, though, Claire supposed that she was just grateful that things had all gone according to plan so far. Her father had accepted the story that she'd joined the cheerleading squad easily enough; he hadn't been happy about her applying for cheerleading without his permission, of course, but she'd been able to convince him to let her 'continue' it (So long as she avoided dating for now, admittedly, but that was something she wasn't exactly keen on doing at the moment anyway).

With an effective cover story now provided, Claire had thus been able to convince her father to allow her to go to a 'competition' that the cheerleaders had signed up for prior to her joining the team, calling May- the girl who'd given her the form- to ask the other girl to provide her with a cover story if her parents tried to check up on her story (The excuse she'd given still made Claire smile; she'd told May that she wanted to spend time with a boyfriend her parents didn't know about, which wasn't _that _far from the truth if you allowed for the fact that Peter just considered himself to be her boy _friend _and her parents' own ignorance of the depth of her feelings for him).

With a cover story sorted out, Claire had left early that morning- shortly after her father had left on some work thing he hadn't told them much about-, Peter subsequently joining her after phasing out of the upper wall to land on the ground below, subsequently healing his injuries with her power before the two of them headed for the airport, the fall short enough so that there was minimal blood and only a couple of broken bones needing to be re-set after the initial pain had passed. Having managed to get his bones back into position, Peter had taken Claire's hand and the two of them had turned invisible before heading for the nearest main street, Claire subsequently hailing a taxi to take them the rest of the way using some of the money she'd stored away following the move

They both acknowledged that the rest of Claire's family wouldn't take long to realise that Peter wasn't in his room- and, hence, that Claire _hadn't _gone to a cheerleading event; not even her father at his most paranoid would think that she'd deliberately put Peter in danger-, but hopefully when they got back they'd have discovered some clues regarding what had actually _happened _to Peter during the last four months, which would hopefully negate any lies that they might have told. Her dad might freak out about how Claire was putting them at risk by attracting attention, but the way Claire saw it, taking a sick day off was hardly going to get people _that _freaked out, and it was all for a good cause anyway; how could her father complain about her trying to figure out what had happened to Peter?

Once at the airport, they'd managed to exchange the New York-Montreal tickets for Coasta Verda-Montreal ones, which at least gave them a bit of extra money due to the exchange rate (Admittedly it wasn't much, but Claire wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth at a time like this; every little helped, after all). So far the flight had gone fairly smoothly, even if the in-flight movie had been nothing to write home about; Claire just hadn't really felt in the mood for _Enchanted_ at a time like this, with it just reminding her that, in the end, she'd never get _her _'True Love's Kiss' (The brief one she'd received from Peter when he'd arrived didn't really count… and why the _hell _was she thinking about Peter like that; he was her _uncle_, remember?!)…

"Claire?" Peter said to her left, prompting Claire to glance back at him as he looked curiously at her. "You OK?"

"Yeah… I'm fine," Claire replied, nodding briefly at Peter as she turned to look out of the window once again. "Just… well, y'know… I'm just wondering what we'll find when we get to… whatever that place is."

Peter smiled.

"Hey," he said, reaching over to take her hand, giving it a brief, affectionate squeeze as he smiled at her. "We'll find it, OK?"

Before Claire could make any response to that, Peter had leaned over and briefly kissed her near her left cheekbone, pulling back with a slight smile on his face as she looked at him.

"I already saved you from a killer once," he continued, smiling at her in that warm manner that made Claire's stomach do… _things_… she didn't like to think about (You were _not _supposed to react that way to your _uncle _kissing you on the _cheek_!) as he spoke. "How hard can checking out a building be?"

Once again, Claire was left in what she was rapidly coming to think of as a 'Peter Moment' (God, how was it possible for him to be _that _good at putting her at ease?).

Here she was, flying all the way to Montreal without her parents' knowledge, harbouring thoughts about her uncle that were _definitely _illegal in at least several states, possibly due to encounter God only knew what…

And yet, even in that situation, all it took was one smile from Peter and she felt like she could do anything.

* * *

Neither of them noticed the sixteen-year-old boy flying after their plane at speeds that should have been impossible for the human form to maintain without some form of protection against the winds that were currently blowing against him, his fists clenched as he glared at the plane ahead of him.

West Rosen might be hanging back from his top speed to avoid overshooting his mark- he could normally go at just under the speed of sound if he really pushed himself-, but it was clear that he was having to fight the urge to go faster, if only to see the look on Claire's face.

Right now, though, impressing Claire with his _speed _wasn't what he wanted; what he _wanted _was to find out what the hell this guy was doing taking her to _Montreal _of all places, and then show her that he was a _way _better choice than some weird older guy who painted stuff and dragged her around the country on wild goose chases…

* * *

A few hours later, the plane having landed and the two of them having stopped for a brief snack at the airport (Neither aware of their 'stalker' as he watched them off to the side, waiting for his moment), Peter and Claire found themselves standing on the corner of a quite street, looking at the building on front of them as Peter studied the painting he'd just removed from their bag, nodding thoughtfully as he compared the image in his hands with the scene before them.

Overall, it looked pretty much exactly as he'd painted it; the street sign on the corner was accurate, the church seemed to be approximately the right distance away- the way the painting presented the image made it slightly harder to accurately estimate scale-, the building in front of them even had that strange symbol above its door…

"Looks like we found it," Claire said, breaking into his train of thought as she looked at him, an uncertain smile on her face. "Ready?"

"With you and my abilities?" Peter replied, smiling slightly back at her as he rolled up the painting and slipped it back into his bag. "You bet."

It was a stupid thing to focus on, Claire knew, but even as they walked into the warehouse before her, she couldn't help but feel proud of the fact that Peter had put _her _before his abilities when saying what he needed here.

After she'd spent so long feeling like her ability was pretty much useless for anything but defensive purposes, it was really…

Well, it was kind of cool to know that he valued her presence _that _much.

If he'd only-

_NOT gonna go there_! Claire sharply told herself, stopping that train of thought before it could go much further.

She just wished that she could feel certain that Peter hadn't picked up on it; the slight smile on his face could have just been from the fact that they might be about to find out more about his past, but it could just as easily have been him hearing what she'd just thought after he'd accessed Detective Parkman's power…

However, further concerns about what powers Peter might or might not be using were pushed aside as they walked into the warehouse, Claire's eyes scanned their surroundings for any kind of clue about why Peter's painting might have 'directed' them here. She might not understand how that power of his actually worked, but after she'd seen Peter paint Ted before he'd even met the 'radioactive man' in question- as well as him painting Kirby Plaza before they even 'knew' that the final fight with Sylar would take place there-, she wasn't going to ignore what the paintings 'said' (For lack of a better term; in Claire's opinion, thinking of the paintings as 'showing' them something suggested that the paintings were just something to watch without actually making any impact on people).

After a brief walk through a light-coloured entrance hallway, Peter opened another door, revealing a large, darkened room that seemed to be filled with objects. Peter reached over to turn a light on, but even when illuminated the room failed to provide them with any immediate answers. All that seemed to be inside the warehouse was a large collection of boxes- a _ridiculously _large collection of boxes, in Claire's opinion; why did people feel the need to gather all this stuff together?- along with various assorted random artefacts. Just from the door they'd entered by, Claire could see several chairs turned upside-down on top of some of the boxes, a grandfather clock that didn't look like anyone had wound it up for years, some unlabeled files, old flags with a symbol that Claire couldn't identify- a different one from the one outside, but that was all that she could say for sure-, and even what looked like an old chandelier of all things.

"What is this place?" Claire asked, looking in confusion around the room as they walked even further into it,

"I don't know…" Peter muttered, glancing around the room before his eyes settled on something. Turning to look at what he was currently staring at, Claire saw a small note pinned to a decent-sized mirror on top of some kind of cabinet, an old-fashioned-looking lamp and a golden-coloured goblet just in front of it.

Walking over to the mirror, Peter grabbed the note off its surface, staring briefly at it before he glanced around at his surroundings once again.

"Someone knew I was coming…" he muttered, evidently wishing he knew more about whatever was going on, before he turned the note over and began to read it, the confusion that had already been on his face growing more obvious as he read. "'_We were right about the Company. The world is in danger. It's up to us. Adam_'."

He looked anxiously up at Claire. "Does that… mean anything to you?"

"Well… I don't know any Adam, but I _think _Iknow about the Company he mentioned there," Claire replied, carefully going over what she remembered overhearing about her father's work with the Company; she didn't think now was the best time to tell him that her adopted dad had used to work for the group she was telling him about. "If he's talking about the right Company, they're a group who go around testing people with abilities for some reason; apparently they generally operate by abducting people with abilities, testing what they can do, and then kill them, erase their memory of the abduction, or recruit them…."

Noting Peter's still confused expression, Claire could only shrug helplessly. "That's pretty much it; I… well, when I was told everything about them I was more interested in getting away from them than in finding out more…"

"OK, so we know what Company he's talking about, but… what's he _talking _about here?" Peter asked, looking around the room in evidently growing frustration; Claire briefly wondered if he was trying to tap into some kind of vision power that he might have 'absorbed' since she last saw him. "I don't know about… _any _of this! 'The world is in danger'? From something that this 'Company' did? What am I supposed to _do_?"

"We'll figure it out," Claire said, stepping forward to look comfortingly at Peter, a slight smile on her face as she walked up to him. "I'm _not _going to give up on you, Peter; you're my hero."

_Hero_…

It didn't do much to really _express _just how much he meant to her, but, as she wrapped her arms around him, revelling in the feel of his body against hers (No matter _how _sick society might call it, she just couldn't _stop _loving him; couldn't she at least be allowed to enjoy these little things?), she had to admit that it still felt pretty good to see him smile even slightly at that.

"I just want to know where to _go_…" Peter muttered, his eyes squeezed shut as he held Claire in his arms, the younger girl closing her own eyes as she held him close, wishing that she could give him the answers he sought…


	11. To the Future

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

It was only when Claire opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings that she realised that things had changed around them. One moment they were standing in a deserted warehouse filled with all kinds of assorted junk that apparently had nothing in common with everything else in the room apart from the fact that it all seemed to be really old, and the next…

Claire might have never been there herself- when she'd last been to New York she'd been more concerned with tracking down Peter and then Ted, causing her to focus her time between either Kirby Plaza or the Petrelli's house-, but she didn't need to be a native New Yorker to recognise Times Square.

The only problem with this current sight was that it was a Times Square that was totally deserted, lacking any trace of the people who should have been in the square under normal circumstances. The usual advertising signs for various upcoming and currently-showing Broadway productions were visible on the various buildings around them, but most of the electronic signs that should have been advertising food, drinks, or upcoming TV shows where all turned off; even the traffic-lights immediately next to them weren't working. Continuing the impression of nobody being present here, the street corners were each filled with large piles of garbage bags, giving the impression that people had just thrown them away without anybody being present to pick them up afterwards, while various pieces of paper lay scattered around them as they stood on the pavement.

"Oh my God…" Claire said, staring in shock at their new location. "We're in New York…"

"What the… New York?" Peter repeated, looking over at Claire incredulously. "We in Montreal a few seconds ago; how did we get _here_?"

"Well… you already knew you could teleport; you must have… I don't know, subconsciously decided to try it out?" Claire suggested, shrugging her shoulders uncertainly. "I mean, you _did _say that you wanted to know where to go…"

"Hold on…" Peter said, turning around to crouch down and pick up one of the pieces of paper that Claire had noticed earlier, subsequently holding it out so that Claire could read what it said.

She didn't even need to read the smaller print at the bottom of the page; the large print at the top- beginning with thick white text in a red box and followed by similarly-sized black words underneath it- provided all the answers they needed.

EVACUATION NOTICE

JUNE 14th, 2008

MANDATED EVACUATION ORDER

_June 14__th__, 200__**8**_, Claire repeated in her head, looking up at Peter as the implications of this latest discovery hit her (The 'Evacuation' thing was a point for concern, of course, but right now the date was the main issue they now had to deal with as far as she could see).

"Oh my God…" she whispered, half to Peter and half to herself. "We… we're in the _future_…"

"After something happened that made people evacuate the whole of New York…" Peter muttered, swallowing slightly as he looked grimly at the buildings around them. "We _definitely _have a problem…"

For a moment, the two of them simply stared silently around at the streets, trying to spot some sign of another human being in the area, before Peter sighed and turned to look at Claire.

"Well," he said, a slightly uncertain expression on his face, "guess… all we can do is look around."

"Yeah…" Claire said, nodding slightly in response, before the two began to walk down the nearest street.

"So," Claire said after a moment's pause, glancing over at Peter curiously, "sensing anything yet?"

"'Sensing'?" Peter repeated, looking uncertainly at her.

"Y'know," the former cheerleader said, shrugging uncertainly, "I just wondered if you'd… well, if you'd picked up anything with Officer Parkman's mind-reading or something like that…"

She knew that it was almost hypocritical of her, really- after spending so long worrying about Peter picking up something he shouldn't if he _did _access that power, here she was wondering if he could use it _now_-, but with the situation being what it was, Officer Parkman's telepathy was the only thing she could think of that they could use to find somebody else (There was the power of that Molly girl her father had told her about- she'd apparently been there during the Kirby Plaza incident; she was supposedly able to find anyone she wanted-, but she wasn't sure about asking Peter to access a power that, as far as she knew, he hadn't used already).

"Not yet," Peter said, shaking his head apologetically as he smiled slightly at her, cutting off Claire's train of thought as she turned back to look at him. "I gave it a shot, but… well, I'm not sure if I'm doing it wrong or what, but I'm not getting anything."

"Nuts…" Claire muttered, shaking her head in frustration as she looked up at the nearest building, sighing slightly at the lack of activity around her. "God… what could have _caused _all this?"

"Yeah…" Peter said, looking grimly up at another building before he turned back to look at her. "Look, maybe I should just try and send us back; we're not-"

Before Peter could finish that sentence, an armoured car of some kind suddenly drove out of a nearby side-street, sirens blaring as it halted in front of them. Peter and Claire barely had time to register what had just taken place before four men dressed in what looked like haz-mat gear- yellow full-body suits that included a helmet with a large visor and left nothing uncovered- jumped out of the car's doors and ran towards them.

"Over there," one of the men said, grabbing Peter by the shoulders and dragging him off to one side, away from Claire, before Peter could even think about trying to use one of his abilities. "Get on the ground. Get on the ground now!"

As he lay on the ground, Peter vaguely registered the sound of what could only be Claire as she hit the ground with a slightly muffled thump; Peter was willing to guess that she'd hit the trash bags they'd seen earlier rather than hitting the ground itself, but right

"Do you have any symptoms?" Peter vaguely heard one man yell at Claire.

"Are you sick?" one of the men currently holding Peter down asked him.

"Sick?" Peter repeated, staring in confusion up at the man before him. "What the hell's going on?"

As a gas mask was forced onto Peter's face, he wondered if it would make any difference if he'd told them that they _couldn't _have any symptoms- with Claire's ability to heal from injuries, he somehow doubted that either of them would ever have to worry about illness again-, but then he found himself hauled roughly to his feet

"Take them to decontamination!" one of the men- Peter couldn't be sure who; everything was happening too quickly for him to identify who was saying what any more- yelled as the two of them were dragged away. "_Now_!"

Even as he was dragged into the back of the car, Peter could only keep his eyes fixed on Claire as they were thrust into the back of the car, wishing and praying that he could gain enough control to figure out how to teleport them both back to the past before something even _worse_ happened to them…

* * *

As he stared grimly at the building below him, his arms folded as he waited semi-patiently for Claire and the Old Guy- he didn't know the guy's name and he was at least a decade older than Claire; 'Old Guy' seemed like the best term for him right now- to find whatever they'd come here for and leave, West glanced impatiently at his watch once again.

He couldn't believe it; how could anybody spend _this _long looking around a bunch of boxes? He'd taken a brief peek inside the building once he'd seen where they were going- just a quick glance through the windows after they'd turned the lights on before he flew away once again; he hadn't wanted to give himself away too early, after all-, and all he'd seen inside the place was a bunch of old crap that looked like nobody had touched it for at least a couple of decades; what could be so fascinating about _that_?

After around twenty minutes had passed without any sign of activity at any of the doors- what kind of moron came to a place like this without a clear idea of what they were looking for; surely the Old Guy would have found what he'd been looking for here if he'd been after _anything_?-, West took a chance and, after a quick glance around to make sure nobody could see him, dived down to peek in at the window he'd used earlier…

Only to see nobody inside.

The warehouse wasn't _that _large- he could see everything inside the main storage area fairly easily from where he was currently looking at it-, and the way he was positioned he could easily see enough over the tops of the piles to see the Old Guy if he was standing up, but there wasn't any sign of him…

Hell, West couldn't even _hear _any sign of somebody being in the place (He freely acknowledged that his hearing wasn't exceptionally sharp or anything like that, but the glass he was looking through wasn't _that _thick); what was going _on _here?

After a couple more minutes of silent observation had revealed nothing, West made his decision; lowering himself to the ground in a nearby alley- he wasn't going to draw any more attention to himself than he had to-, and then walked over to the door, taking a last quick look at his surroundings before he opened the door and slipped inside the building, quickly raising himself a few inches off the ground to prevent his footsteps giving him away.

If he was just being paranoid, he'd prefer to give as few clues about his presence as possible; at least if he floated, he wouldn't make any sound as he walked or something like that…

In the end, however, it didn't take long for West to determine that his attempts at 'stealth' were pointless; he 'flew'- 'levitated' had always sounded kind of stupid to him- all the way up to the highest point in the warehouse to try and get a better look at the room he was currently in, but he still failed to see any sign of Claire or the Old Guy.

Hell, there weren't even any boxes large enough for them to be hiding in _or _giving any sign that they'd been opened recently enough for that to be an option; it was as though Claire and the Old Guy had stepped into this place and then…

_Vanished_.

"What the _hell_…?" West muttered to himself, lowering himself back down to the ground as he stared around at the multitude of boxes surrounding him in confusion. "What's going _on _here; where _are _they…?"

"More to the point," a voice with a slight accent said from behind West, accompanied by the faint sound of footsteps, "what the hell are you _doing _here?"

Spinning around in shock at the sound of the voice- he must have been concentrating so much on trying to _see _something that he'd missed hearing the door open when this guy entered-, West barely had time to register a tall man with short fair hair and blue eyes standing behind him before his vision was filled with a fist hurtling towards his face, accompanied by the gleam of something shining on the fingers…

Then he felt something strike him in the chest with an unpleasant cracking sound, sharp pain overwhelming his senses as he collapsed, and West knew that he suddenly had bigger things to worry about than Claire's weird disappearance.

"You see," the man said, West only just able to see the speaker as he squeezed his eyes half-shut against the pain that now dominated his senses, "I had to go to a _lot _of effort to get here, and I have just spent the last few days waiting around for Peter to show up, only to find when he _does _get here that he's vanished into thin air- possibly with Carp's power, which means I don't know _when _he'll be back-, leaving me with some kid who doesn't know his place."

"Hey…" West gasped, glaring weakly up at the man before him even as he gasped for air while trying to figure out what the guy was talking about (Was 'Peter' Old Guy's real name?). "I… _fly_… _ass_… hole…"

"Oh, shut _up_," the man said, following his statement up with another punch- what _was _this guy wearing on his hands; West was sure he felt something _break _with that last hit- that sent West to the ground once again, blood now pouring from his nose over his lips and his vision unfocused, to say nothing of his sense of smell having seemingly nearly vanished. "I've got bigger things to worry about than some kid who can hover around a bit; I have to find Peter…"

West couldn't believe it; not only did the Old Guy have _Claire _fawning all over him like some pathetic kid- how could she go for that weirdo over _him_; at least he was her _age_!-, but now this creep was saying that West wasn't worth his effort because he wanted the _Old Guy_?

Even as the part of his brain that wasn't blinded by pain noted that he was being ridiculous about this- how could he be _complaining _that he wasn't _interesting _enough for a guy who was beating the crap out of him?-, West, enraged at being ignored, forced himself off the ground and began to charge towards the creep who'd just attacked him…

Only for the man to whirl around, duck under his initial assault like it was nothing, and then follow it up with a quick punch to West's stomach even as he flew above the other guy. The force of the blow not only left West with a serious pain in his stomach- if that last hit hadn't cracked a rib or two he'd be _really _surprised-, but it forced him out of the air and into a nearby box, his body suddenly so stricken with pain that he couldn't concentrate enough to stay in the air. Pain flooding through his brain, West barely had time to register the strange man approaching him before a new round of pain tore through his body, causing some part of him to briefly conclude that now might not be the time to remain conscious before the rest of him caught on to that fact, blackness taking over West's brain as the new arrival launched another kick at him…


	12. To Save a Brother, To Save the World

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

As he sat silently at a table in an empty room, wishing that he knew where Claire was or what was happening here, Peter wished once again that he'd mastered better control of his abilities; maybe if he'd been able to access the ability of that 'Parkman' guy Claire had mentioned he'd at least have _some _idea of what the hell was going on here…

As it was, however, so far he'd learned nothing; his entire time during the trip back had been taken up by his 'captors'- their talk about infection and symptoms suggested there was some underlying purpose to all this, but until Peter knew what they wanted he was going to consider himself and Claire captives- constantly asking him and Claire whether they had any symptoms or had been in any contaminated areas, seemingly ignoring their protests that they didn't know what anyone was talking about. After being taken to a decontamination room of some kind and violently showered down- Peter still fumed with rage when he thought of how those men had manhandled Claire while cleaning her; no matter _what_ had happened to drive humanity to… _this_…, they could have been… _rough _with her-, Peter and Claire had been taken off in separate directions. Having been given the clothes he was wearing now- a simple white T-shirt and light grey trousers-, Peter had then been sent to the room where he currently sat behind a table, waiting impatiently for someone to provide him with answers even as he raced through what Claire had told him about his abilities to try and find aw ay out.

If only he _knew _how to access Parkman's power, he might be able to find Claire by 'searching' for her mind in this building or something like that… maybe he could just try and ask somebody for the answer and read their mind to get the _real _answer whatever they told him…

The sound of footsteps broke Peter's train of thought as he glanced up from the table, watching silently as a man walked into the room and headed straight for the table where he sat, a clipboard and a folder in his hand as he walked.

"Peter Petrelli?" the man said, looking inquiringly at him. "According to these files, you're a dead man."

"What?" Peter said, staring incredulously at the man before him.

Whatever he'd been expecting to hear, it _hadn't _been that he was _dead_…

"I've got your death certificate right here," the man said, opening the folder and placing a piece of paper in front of Peter as he sat down. "So… you're gonna have to explain to me, how's a dead man walking around New York with no sign of infection?"

"Infection?" Peter repeated, looking back at the man, making no effort to hide his confusion; he had enough to deal with right now without trying to tell lies on top of everything else. "I don't know what you're _talking _about… and where the _hell _is Claire?"

"Miss Bennett was listed as missing almost a year ago; we're still trying to figure out what anyone wants to actually do with her-" the man began.

"_Do _with her?" Peter repeated, looking impatiently at the man before him. "Who the hell _are _you people? What's going _on _here?"

After a moment's contemplative silence as the man looked inquiringly at Peter, he finally spoke again.

"You really don't know?" he said, a slightly sceptical tone in his voice.

"Why would I be asking if I _did_?" Peter countered. "Would it be asking too much for someone to _explain _what's going on here?"

After a moment's contemplation, the man sighed and stood up.

"Come on," he said, indicating the door that he had entered by. "If you _really _don't know… I've got something to show you."

Standing up uncertainly behind the desk- after the way he'd been treated prior to this point Peter wasn't going to take anything at face value until he saw Claire again-, Peter walked after the man, who turned around a corner at the room's entrance and subsequently proceeded down another corridor.

"On March 20th, 2007, the first case was reported," the man explained, as he and Peter began to walk along a darker corridor in the building and up a small flight of stairs. "After that, the Shanti virus spread across the globe. A pandemic. It's killed 93% of the world's population to date; the rest of us live in quarantine praying to find a cure."

Peter's eyes widened in horror.

_Ninety-three percent _of the human race had died in just over a _year_?

"This can't be happening…" he said, as the man began to walk towards a large window on the opposite side of the room from the stairs they'd just entered by.

"I wish it wasn't," the man said grimly as he walked up to the window, stepping back to allow Peter to look through it himself.

The sight that met Peter's eyes as he stared through the window was like something out of a nightmare. On the other side of the window before him was a vast warehouse, filled with bodies that seemed to have been placed in rubbish bags and then piled on top of each other, as though the numbers grew so rapidly that there was no room to develop a more organised system. People dressed in contamination gear were also walking around among the various 'piles' as they moved bodies around; Peter could even see a truck that they were using to transport the bodies standing inside the building, along with a few of those elevating ramp things- what were they called, and had he known that before his amnesia?- that they were apparently using to add new bodies to the top of the piles.

_Oh my God_… Peter thought as he stared in horror at the sight before him, wishing more than anything that it wasn't real even as he knew that it couldn't be anything but.

"All these people died from the virus?" he said, as he stared out at the scene before him, unable to look away even as the horror of the scale of death before him continued to dominate his mind.

"Yeah, it's been a tough week," the man said, his tone giving no real indication of his feelings about the fact that death on this scale could happen in that short an amount of time.

For a moment, Peter simply stood in front of the window, staring silently at the mass of bodies before him, piled up like so much refuse simply because the scale of death made it impossible to be more thorough in disposing of the bodies, before the man behind him coughed slightly to draw his attention back.

"Come on," he said, indicating another corridor at the opposite end from the one he'd entered by. "There's someone who wants to talk to you."

"What?" Peter said, his thoughts temporarily taken away from the death before him at this latest turn of events. "I thought you said Claire-?"

"I did," the man said simply. "However, one of my superiors… she wants to talk to you."

For a moment, Peter thought about asking for more information, but decided that it wasn't worth it; in his current state, how was he even to know who the person he was being take to _was_, never mind why they might want to talk to him, even if he knew their name (Claire and he had talked about some of the people he'd met prior to his memory loss, but Claire had avoided mentioning any specific details; from what she'd read about amnesia she'd told him that it sounded like it would be best to let him recover information that didn't relate to what he could do on his own)?

With that, he followed the man down another corridor and long to another apparent 'registration' area, much like the one where the man had met him earlier. Unlike the last one, which had been empty apart from him, there was someone else already in the room on this occasion, a female figure sitting facing away from the room's entrance with dark hair dressed in black.

"I'll leave you two alone," the man said, pausing briefly outside the room's entrance to look at Peter before he walked away, leaving Peter to look uncertainly at the woman standing before him. After a moment's hesitation, Peter began to walk forward, eventually reaching a position just behind the woman, who turned and hugged him before he'd had time to see more than the basic details of her appearance (She seemed to be in around her mid-fifties to mid-sixties, although she gave the distinct impression that she was still in at least fairly good shape for her age).

Whatever her appearance, Peter didn't care about that right now; he might have no real idea what he was dealing with, but he wasn't going to start accepting hugs from strange women unless he knew _why _they were doing it.

"Do I know you?" he asked, looking pointedly at the woman.

After a moment's silence, she finally spoke. "They brought me here to help you, Peter. You need to remember who you are-"

"I _need _to find Claire and get out of this place!" Peter countered (He had no idea who _they _were- maybe some of the 'superiors' that other guy had mentioned?-, and right now he didn't care; he had an immediate 'plan' and he was going to stick to it).

"You need to focus," the woman said, continuing to stare intently at him. "You can move objects with your mind, heal-"

"Paint the future, turn invisible, fly, generate radiation, time-travel, and maybe some other stuff that I don't _know _I've absorbed since Claire last met me; I _know _all about that," Peter said, staring back at her with an intense glare of his own. "What's your _point_?"

"You may be the most powerful of us all," the woman replied (To her credit, she'd taken his outburst fairly calmly, although how Peter himself should take that he still wasn't certain). "You are kind and selfless, always thinking about others, but now you need to think about yourself and fly into the face of danger, just like your brother."

Peter blinked.

"I have a brother?" he said, trying to sound less shocked than he was (Why hadn't Claire mentioned something like that?).

"He died in the first outbreak," the woman said, his expression solemn at the memory. "But you… you can change that."

"How?" Peter said, looking at her with renewed intensity (If what the woman had told him so far was true, he still had a great deal of questions that needed answering before he was remotely satisfied with what he knew about this current crisis). "I mean, even if I time-travel back, how can I stop something like… like _this_? Why didn't this 'Company' I've heard about use _Claire's _ability to provide a cure; surely if she could heal _herself _she could have helped somebody figure out a cure for _this_-?"

"Claire went missing shortly after the virus broke out, and the only other source of her power was… missing; seeking her aid in finding a cure wasn't an option," the woman replied. "The virus spread too rapidly for us to search for her at first, and by the time that possibility was considered it was too late for anyone to find her. Right now, no matter what anyone else likes to think, _you _are our only hope."

"Look," Peter said, staring in ever-growing frustration at the woman before him, "according to Claire I could barely control what I was doing when I _knew _what powers I could use; how can I change _history_ when I don't even remember how I picked _up _these powers in the first place?!"

As he struck the table before him in frustration, Peter was only partly shocked when his punch caused the table to crack practically in half, Claire _had _mentioned that he'd met someone with superhuman strength before he'd… vanished…

"Then this virus will kill us all," the woman said, still staring sympathetically at him as he stood above the shattered table, panting slightly as he stared at the broken piece of furniture before him. "Peter, you _need _to remember."

_Remember_…

Peter could have kicked himself for not thinking of trying this earlier.

He might not have probed Claire's mind while she was teaching him- after everything she'd been doing for him it felt wrong to practise _that _power on her if she didn't give him permission-, but with the fate of the planet at stake, he didn't exactly have many options left.

Reaching into himself, he tried to access the telepathy that Claire had told him he possessed…

Then, as he sensed another's mind, he found himself witnessing a rapid spree of images-

_A birthday party for a boy who could only be himself-  
__A graduation ceremony; he was sitting beside the woman, uncomfortable in a formal suit as a young man crossed the stage-  
__A funeral; sitting beside the older version of the graduating man as the woman before him stared solemnly at the sight before her-  
Standing outside a hospital room; the woman walked out as he talked with the older man-  
Waiting in what looked like an office; talking to the woman in an empty room-_

Peter's eyes widened.

Was this woman…

Could it be…?

"Mom?" he said, his voice low as he looked uncertainly back at her.

Smiling while seemingly simultaneously holding back tears, the woman- his _mother_- reached forward to hug Peter, holding him close for a few moments before she pulled back, a new expression of resolution on her face.

"It's time you went back," she said simply, before she glanced at something behind him with a slightly saddened smile. "And here's the reason how."

"Peter?" a voice said uncertainly from behind him.

"Claire?" Peter repeated, turning around to look at the source of the speaker behind him, a broad smile spreading across his face as he saw the young woman- 'girl' was too inappropriate for someone who'd come through something this bizarre without going nuts- standing before him, a slight smile on her face as she looked at him.

She might have been dressed in a simple white shirt and grey sweatpants, but right now Peter couldn't think of anything that could be more beautiful than that.

He couldn't even _think _about stopping himself; unconcerned about whatever the reasons were for them not doing it before he lost his memory, Peter walked over to Claire, wrapped his arms around her, and drew her in for a deep, passionate kiss…

* * *

AN: Well, hope you all enjoyed that chapter; after the next one, things _really _begin to diverge from what happened originally…


	13. Restoration

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

… Then, without even removing his lips from Claire's, Peter 'sensed' the world briefly 'warp' around them- everything _felt _different, save for the increasingly-comforting feeling of Claire's lips against his own-, and knew that he was back in the past, apparently in the very same warehouse where they'd been standing before he and Claire took their original 'trip' to the future in the first place.

_Huh_, he reflected, with the part of his mind that wasn't totally focused on the wonderful feeling of Claire's lips against his own. _Wonder if _this _is what Mom meant about Claire being 'what I need'_…

Then Claire stepped away from him, and the 'spell' was broken as she looked shakily back at him.

"_No_," she said, even as her expression gave the impression that she would rather say anything but what was actually crossing her lips. "We… Peter, we _can't_…"

"Why not?" Peter asked, looking at her with a slightly teasing smile. "Claire, you can't tell me you didn't feel _that_…"

"It's not about…" Claire began, before shaking her head and swallowing slightly. "Look, how we _feel _isn't the issue, Peter; there's something-"

Whatever Claire had been about to say was cut off mid-sentence as Peter raised one hand in a 'stop' gesture and froze, hearing something moving in another part of the warehouse.

Whatever Claire had to tell him about their past reasons for not kissing like they had been _born _for each other's lips would have to wait; there was definitely _something _else here.

It didn't sound like it was _very_ near- maybe just around a corner or something-, but there was _definitely _something else in here…

Peter didn't hesitate; right now, with things being the way they were and with him increasingly having no idea what he was meant to do or where he should go to accomplish it, he couldn't afford to take chances. Raising one hand in a preparatory measure, he tensed his mind for a moment, ignoring the urgent expression on Claire's face with an urgent 'Quiet' gesture, until a hand reached out from around a corner as though 'testing the waters', prompting Peter to launch a brief burst of electrical energy at the target (He still had _no _idea where that power had come from, but he made a mental note to thank the owner when he met them; it was definitely kind of cool)…

Then, right before their eyes, the damage he'd just caused to the hand healed up as though it was Claire's hand.

_Oh my God_… Peter thought, as he stared at the now-healed hand before him.

Either the person before him had Claire's ability, or they had _his_ ability and were just copying Claire's power because she was there…

Either way, this situation had just become _very _complicated.

Before Peter could decide what to do in response to this latest turn of events, the figure had walked out from around the corner, revealing that it was a man, apparently in his mid-twenties, dressed in a dark shirt, jacket and trousers, with short blond hair, a high forehead and piercing blue eyes.

"Peter," he said, looking at Peter in confusion, "what the hell was that?"

Then the man's eyes settled on Claire, and his confusion evidently increased. "And who are _you_?"

* * *

"You know him?" Claire asked, stepping forward slightly to stand in front of Peter; he might be more capable of defending himself, but right now she would take any opportunity that meant she didn't have to look at him as he looked at her like she'd just kicked his puppy (God, how could the strongest man she'd ever met manage to look so… _sweet_ when he was hurt; even knowing he'd _freak _once he remembered why he _shouldn't _want to kiss her, Claire just _couldn't _look at him when he had those eyes without wanting to pick up where they'd left off…).

"Of course I do," the man said, looking at Peter with a slight smile. "It's me, Adam; don't you remember? You and I are going to change history."

"I'm sorry, I don't…" Peter began, shaking his head slightly as he looked uncertainly at the man before them; clearly he was uncomfortable letting a stranger know what they'd just experienced.

"We think the Haitian erased his memory," Claire said, taking up the explanation once again; so long as she stuck simply to the necessary facts they might manage to get through this latest twist easily enough. "I've been trying to help him get it back, but… well, it's not exactly been easy."

"And you are?" Adam asked, looking probingly at Claire.

"I'm… Claire," Claire replied, deciding to omit her surname; right now she didn't know enough about this man- the name aside, how did they even know he was the same 'Adam' as the one to write the note they'd found?- to feel comfortable with telling him anything as personal as her surname.

"Claire?" Adam said, smiling slightly at her. "As in, _Peter's _Claire? The one he saved from that psycho?"

"Yeah…" Claire said, looking uncertainly at the man before her (Still nothing definite to tell her what side this guy was on; _anyone _who knew about Peter's abilities would find it fairly easy to learn about how he'd met her, given that the same encounter had also resulted in Sylar being captured).

"Well, at least that worked out for him; Peter couldn't _stop _talking about making sure you were safe when I first met him," Adam said, smiling slightly at her before he turned back to Peter. "As for you… well, if the Haitian got to you that explains why you fell off the face of the Earth…"

Pausing for a moment, Adam shook his head in a reflective manner before he turned back to look resolutely at Peter. "You can get back your memory; I know how."

"How?" Peter asked, his gaze curious as he looked at the man (Mixed with an at-least-slight edge of scepticism, Claire noted; even when he didn't remember anything, it was almost like Peter was still taking care to avoid being put in the same situation he'd been in last time she'd seen him, when it turned out he was being set up to _cause_ what he wanted to _stop_).

"Healing-" Adam began to say.

"Hey, _I _can do that!" Claire cut in, looking pointedly at the guy before her.

If this new arrival thought they were going to automatically believe anything he had to tell them, Claire was going to make sure he recognised that he had another thing coming; her dad might be almost _too _paranoid about staying hidden, but that didn't mean he didn't have a point (Particularly when the guy told them something like _that_; if Peter just needed to _heal_ to fix the damage, why hadn't he done it already?).

"Really?" the man said, looking at her with a slightly curious expression that left Claire feeling slightly uncomfortable for reasons she didn't like to explore in any great depth. "When did you manifest?"

"Uh… my power?" Claire said, wishing Adam would stop looking at her like that; she wasn't sure if she should find it flattering or creepy that he was paying this much attention to her. "Well… I first noticed it a few months ago…"

"Ah, that explains it," Adam said, nodding slightly in understanding with a slight smile on his face.

"Explains what?" Claire asked, looking in confusion at the man.

"Your ability isn't refined enough to cope with this kind of damage," Adam explained, smiling at her in a manner that would almost have been reassuring if the memory of how he'd looked at her earlier didn't remain fresh in her head. "The mind has to repair itself, and right now your body's still too new at this thing to cope with that kind of fine damage; your body's used to tackling big stuff like broken skin or bones, but what's needed here is precise reconstruction of specific cells in the brain."

"Uh… O-kaaay…" Claire said, nodding slightly sceptically at the man before her.

She still wasn't entirely certain about the honestly of what he was telling her- given her limited knowledge of genetics, she _supposed _what he'd said was a plausible explanation for why Peter hadn't healed the damage the Haitian had done to his mind, but she wouldn't like to swear to it-, but if he thought he could help, she wasn't exactly going to turn him down.

"So… since Claire's ability _can't _heal… this," Peter asked, looking uncertainly at Adam as he stepped forward himself, "what do I do to use _yours _to fix it?"

"Think about what matters most to you," Adam said, looking patiently at the other man. "Do you know what that is?"

* * *

As he looked over at Claire, Peter didn't even need to think about what might matter most to him.

From one brief flash he'd picked up from his encounter with his mother in the future, he had a memory- second-hand, but a memory despite that- of Claire pulling a shard of glass out of his head to restore him to life; take into account what Claire had told him about their first meeting and the answer to Adam's question was obvious.

They'd each saved each other so many times already; it would be almost stupid if Claire _wasn't _what saved him this time around.

Focusing his mind, Peter closed his eyes, concentrated on Claire while allowing his body to naturally relax and access Adam's ability, and then-

_He was playing with Nathan in a field-  
__He was on a hunting trip with his father and his brother_-  
_He was struggling through his nursing classes-  
__He was admitting his feelings to Simone-  
__He was face-to-face with the Hiro Nakamura of the future-  
__He was finishing Isaac's painting-  
__He was meeting Claire for the first time, in the corridor of her Odessa High School-  
__He was training with Claude-  
__He was holding a dying Simone in his arms as Isaac crouched down beside them-  
__He was facing Sylar in Mohinder's apartment-  
__He was standing in Kirby Plaza with Matt and Ted-  
__He was fighting Sylar in Kirby Plaza-  
__He was sitting in his cell in the Company, Elle standing in front of him-  
__He was fleeing the Company with Adam-_

-he opened his eyes.

"I remember…" he said, looking over at Claire with a smile on his face, before he turned back to look at Adam. "I remember everything."

"Good," Adam said, smiling slightly back at Peter. "Shall we save the world?"

Peter had just opened his mouth to speak, when something else reached his ears.

"…_ugh… help… ow…_"

_What the…?_ Peter thought, turning around in confusion as he tried to look for the source of the voice.

"Peter?" Claire asked, looking anxiously at him. "Is… is something wrong?"

"I don't know…" Peter muttered, ignoring the nagging feeling that there was something he was missing- a few of the fine details of his memory weren't quite there yet; some of what he'd said in his conversations with people in the run-up to Kirby Plaza were a bit hazy (Particularly anything involving Claire, for some reason)- as he headed towards a nearby door.

"Peter?" Adam said, looking at the other man with a casual manner that did little to hide the slight tension in his posture that hadn't been there before. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know…" Peter muttered, reaching out a hand to the door handle as he spoke.

"Wait a-" Adam began, moving forward even as Peter began to open the door, the empath's eyes widening in horror at the sight before him.

It was a boy, maybe around Claire's age, but the sheer scale if his injuries made it hard to be certain; practically every exposed area of skin was covered in blood- even one eye was badly bloodshot, the figure seemingly straining to see anything out of it-, as were most of his clothes, and some of his limbs were twisted and bent in such a manner as to make it clear that the bones had been broken.

Even as he stared in horror at the sight before him, a part of Peter's mind- focusing mainly on his newly-reacquired medical knowledge- noted that the figure before him didn't seem to have any damaged ribs and seemed to be breathing well, if weakly; given immediate medical treatment he _should _be able to recover…

Then his mind fully processed the meaning of what he had just seen- the meaning that his horror had initially blinded him to after witnessing it originally-, and he spun around to gaze at Adam.

"What the _hell_?" he said, indicating the body behind him as he glared at the man he'd thought to be just another innocent victim of the Company. "What is _this _about?"

"He was a Company agent; I was-" Adam began, only to be interrupted when Claire pushed past him to stare in shock at the body (Peter didn't like to call it that, but for all the signs of life it retained the thing was too still to be thought of a person).

"_West_?" she yelled in shock, before she spun around to look in horror and (Peter was sure only he noticed it) a slight trace of fear. "What the hell's _wrong _with you; he's _not _with the Company, he barely likes even being at _school_!"

"I thought-" Adam began.

Peter didn't bother to give Adam a chance to explain himself; right now, if Claire said this 'West' wasn't with the Company, that meant that Adam had apparently just beaten a guy half to death just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time (He acknowledged that Claire's word was the only evidence he had of anything _actually _being wrong, but after everything he and Claire had been through together Peter was more than willing to trust her on a matter like this). Before Adam could realise what was happening, Peter tapped into Matt Parkman's ability- in many ways that was actually one of the easiest powers to activate given the headaches he and Parkman had felt when they met; with a memory that vivid it would be hard _not _to remember how he felt upon meeting the guy- and quickly scanned Adam's mind-

-_How'd he hear that?-  
__-can't let him-  
__-need his power-  
__-find the facility-  
__-release the virus-  
__-show those fools-_

Peter's blood ran cold.

Even with only fragments available to him- this guy could _really _control his thoughts, even if it wasn't perfect; it was like he'd been told how to do it but had never really bothered to practise it for some reason-, the intent behind the words was clear.

"You…" he said, his voice low as he stared at Adam, horror and rage competing to dominate his mind as he stared at the man who had helped him to escape the Company. "It's not them… it's _you_…"

"What?" Claire asked, her voice sounding anxious from somewhere behind him (She was still checking out the condition of that 'West' kid; Peter would have to do what he could to keep the fight _away _from that part of this building). "What is it?"

"He's planning to release that virus," Peter said, clenching his fists as he glared at Adam (He avoided mentioning what virus- the last thing he wanted was for Adam to know that they'd _seen _what would happen if he succeeded-, but he was confident that Claire would realise what he was talking about). "And you wanted _me _to help you get it…"

To Adam's credit, he barely even flinched as Peter's hands began to glow the icy blow that a part of the empath's mind vaguely registered must have come from Sylar; he simply continued to stare at Peter as though nothing out of the ordinary was taking place.

"Of course," he said, smiling slightly at Peter. "It's the only way-"

"_Not _going to happen!" Peter said, thrusting one hand out to hurl a burst of lightning- Elle had been a particularly warped piece of work, but she was definitely useful for going on the offensive-, sending Adam flying backwards, his clothes smoking and rapidly-healing burns visible through the holes as he leapt back to his feet, glaring resolutely at Peter.

"Nice," he said simply, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Peter. "You don't know what you're doing, Peter; this is what the world _needs_-"

"Mass murder is what the world _needs_?" Peter countered, glaring at the man before him even as he moved to shield Claire from any potential attacks his adversary might make. "That won't _help_, Adam; you'll be destroying everyone on the _planet _if that virus gets out-"

"Only those who don't _deserve _to live," Adam said casually, before a slight smile crossed his face as he looked pointedly between Peter and Claire. "And seriously, you're hardly one to talk about what's right; you're the one in love with his _niece_, after all."

For a moment, Peter's still-jumbled memory couldn't quite recall what Adam was talking about; he wasn't in love with his _niece_, he was in love- yes, it was definitely love; what he'd felt when he'd kissed Claire was too real to be anything _but_- with Clai-

A sudden last rush of memories 'leapt' out from amid his still-cluttered psyche, and the truth hit him with such force that he was left feeling like he wanted to throw up.

_Oh my God_… he thought, dropping to his knees as he stared out in front of himself at nothing in particular, barely even registering Adam running out through a door off to the side as thoughts of the fantasies that had been running through his head since he had first met Claire hurried past his eyes. _I've been dreaming about my niece… I've been dreaming about having sex with my _niece_… I'm in _love _with my _NIECE…

"Peter, what-?" Claire's voice suddenly said, cutting off Peter's train of thought as he once again registered her presence.

With that re-awareness of his surroundings, something inside him snapped even further.

He couldn't take this any more.

It had been bad enough when he thought age was the only thing between them; with… _this_…added to the picture…

"NO!" he yelled, pain and self-loathing mixed into his statement as he spun around, reaching out one hand to 'yank' the unconscious body of that 'West' kid towards him- the telekinesis kept his body stable enough to prevent any further damage to his bones that the 'flight' might have caused normally-, grabbing West's wrist with one hand even as he spun around to grab Claire's with the other.

He barely even thought about what he was doing any more; almost on automatic, he 'sent' West to Costa Verda hospital- he'd noted the location on a map of the city he'd found once when he was looking for something to read in the house a couple of days ago- before teleporting with Claire back to her house. Peter barely had time to register the anguished look on Claire's face- evidently she knew what he'd just remembered; he just wished that he could summon the necessary emotion to apologise for this when he was still reeling from the horror of what he'd wanted to do himself-, before he closed his eyes, focused his attention inwards once again…


	14. Situation, Alternatives, Action

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Not sure about this chapter, but I still feel it has a certain something; things will REALLY start to get VERY interesting for Paire fans in the next one, though, I can assure you of that…

A Leap to Safety

As Claire lay up in her bedroom, her arms wrapped around her pillow as she sobbed uncontrollably on her bed, she still couldn't believe how badly things had turned out.

She'd known that Peter would freak once he learned who he was if the two of them had… _done_ anything, of course; she just hadn't expected him to go this… _far _when he remembered when all they'd done was _kiss_ (But _God_, those kisses had been _incredible_…)

Dumping her back home was one thing, but just… _leaving _her like that when he'd only just remembered who he was barely five minutes ago?

She wasn't sure what that said about his reaction; was he disgusted at _her_ for not telling him about their real relationship, or himself for feeling that way?

She almost wished it was the first one; Peter didn't _deserve _to hate himself for _her _leading him on. He hadn't done anything wrong; he was a good, kind, brave person who'd only ever wanted to help others…

_God, I'm a _mess… she thought, prompting a fresh wave of sobbing at that thought; how could things have become so messed up? You weren't supposed to feel like someone had scooped out your heart and poured acid into the hole because your _uncle _had just decided to get rid of you like this…

But then again, rationality had never been Claire's strong point even _before _she'd acquired the ability to heal; the fact that she'd tested her ability by trying to kill herself was proof enough of that, after all.

Hell, she was just grateful that she'd managed to hold things together long enough to set up an alibi for why she'd come back so early; she called May to say that her rendezvous with her 'boyfriend' had been cut short due to him having a 'work crisis', while asking May to tell her parents if they rang that the cheerleading thing (Claire couldn't even precisely remember _what _excuse she'd given now) had been called off due to some of the supervisors being ill, before she simply hurried up to the room to try and cry out the worst of her pain before somebody got back.

She still hadn't figured out what she was going to say about Peter's absence, of course, but right now the best thing she could think of was to say that he'd remembered enough about his old life to feel comfortable with leaving them to find his family and pick up the rest of what he needed to get back from them (She'd have been perfectly happy to pretend she didn't know where he _had _gone, of course- the better to conceal what they'd been up to- but she had a feeling her dad would just get overly paranoid about it if she wasn't able to provide an explanation).

_Family_…

God, she never would have thought that word could sound like such a curse as it did when it was referring to her and Peter.

If only they _weren't _related…

If only she _wasn't _his brother's daughter…

If only…

The sound of a door opening downstairs forced Claire to collect herself; even if she didn't feel up to going anywhere right now, she would _definitely _start attracting the wrong kind of interest if somebody came in and found her as she was right now.

As she shifted her position on the bed to make it look as though she'd just fallen asleep while reading something- fortunately a school textbook had been left on the desk by her bed; she wouldn't need to worry about getting up to get anything-, she vaguely heard footsteps coming towards her room, turning her back so that she was facing away from the door just as it opened.

"Claire?" her mom's voice said, walking slightly into the room only to stop, apparently mid-way between the door and the bed. "Are you OK?"

"Mmm?" Claire said, trying to sound like she was still slightly tired as she spoke, her voice half-directed at her pillow to increase the chance that her mom wouldn't notice that she'd been crying. "Yeah… fine… just…", she paused briefly to yawn before she continued to speak, "tired… long trip…"

"Oh," her mom said, thankfully sounding apologetic rather than anything else; at least she probably wouldn't ask Claire any more questions about what she'd been doing in that case. "Well… do you need anything?"

"Just want to…" Claire said, her voice low as she yawned again before continuing, "rest a bit… OK?"

"Sure," her mom said, a slightly sympathetic tone to her voice. "You just rest up as long as you want; I'll let you know when dinner's ready, OK?"

"Thanks…" Claire replied, allowing herself another brief yawn before she moved to snuggle slightly into her pillow once again, waiting until her mom had left her room before she allowed the faintest tears to trickle from her eyes once again.

She'd bought herself some time before she had to face anyone.

All she needed now was to be able to use that time the way she _had _to use it and get over her current emotional mess…

* * *

Even looking back at the day's events in hindsight, Nathan Petrelli was never entirely sure how he'd reached a point where such a surreal chain of events appeared normal. After learning that his currently-missing brother was alive but with nobody having even the slightest clue where he was, he'd then had to deal with a woman with superhuman strength going nuts as the result of some psycho telepath trying to trick her, followed by the _son _of the aforementioned telepath trapping his deranged father in his own _nightmare_ to save his adopted daughter from the same problem…

The weirdest part of all that was that none of _that _felt particularly weird any more; after learning that he could fly and his brother knew someone who could paint the future, things had reached a point where even the strangest things actually seemed almost normal.

What he _hadn't _been expecting was that, as he sat in his new ally's apartment, Matt going over the facts they had in an attempt to piece them together while he just sought some time away from the insanity that his life had become lately- Molly Hayes was currently back at school while Doctor Suresh was still doing… whatever he did… back at the Company-, there would be a sudden crashing sound from another room, followed by a voice muttering something that Nathan couldn't quite hear.

He didn't need to hear what the voice was saying to recognise it, however; even after four months, the memory of the last time he had heard that voice speak to him remained clear in his memory.

"Is that…?" Matt asked, looking curiously up at Nathan, all thoughts of their current investigation briefly forgotten with this latest turn of events.

Nathan didn't even bother replying; leaping to his feet, he hurried into the next room of the flat, his eyes widening in amazement at the sight before him; his brother, dressed in grey sweats that looked like something you'd get in a prison or medical facility- generic clothing you'd never wear if you had an actual choice in your apparel-, was curled up on the floor, sobbing bitterly.

"_Peter_?" Nathan said, staring incredulously at his miraculously-returned brother as he lay on the floor of the room, the faint bruises from where he must have hit the ground- and what had he been doing teleporting into mid-air?- already healing as he cried, his tears displaying a depth of emotional pain that Nathan wasn't sure he'd ever seen Peter- or, indeed, anyone- display before this moment.

"Oh God…" Peter whispered, apparently unaware of even the presence of the two men standing over him as they stared in shock, his eyes tightly shut as he sobbed into his hands. "I love her… I love her… I love _her_…"

Nathan wasn't sure what to think about this latest turn of events; Peter turning up alive was unexpected enough, but now he was talking about loving someone like it was the end of the world?

"Look," he said, glancing over slightly uncomfortably at Matt- he hated having to rely on the other man for something this personal, but with Peter having not even glanced in their direction it looked like Parkman was the only way he was going to find out what he needed to know if he was going to even try and help his brother-, "sorry to have to ask this, but any chance you could…"

"Find out what he's talking about?" Matt replied, shrugging slightly as he turned his attention back to Peter. "I'll try, but I can't make any promises; the last time I tried this both of us just ended up with headaches…"

Focusing his attention on the man before him, Matt narrowed his eyes slightly in the manner that Nathan had come to associate with him accessing his ability, only to step back a few seconds later with one hand pressed to his forehead, discomfort evident on his face. "_Damn_…"

"Anything?" Nathan asked anxiously.

"Nothing," Matt countered, shaking his head at the other man. "Whatever's happened to him, he's… well, he's somehow _blocking _me; I can't find anything about where he's been or what he did…"

Stepping back slightly from Peter's still-shaking body, Matt sighed regretfully before he indicated the nearby bed. "Look, maybe we should just try and let him rest; from what I _did_ pick up, I think he just… well, he needs some time to himself to think about… whatever he found out."

For a moment Nathan was about to offer an alternative suggestion- they had access to the Company's resources right now, and they were certainly owed a favour or two after taking out Maury Parkman-, but then he recalled the Company's failure to 'treat' Molly after Maury had trapped her in her own nightmare- to say nothing of what Bob Bishop had implied about their interest in Peter due to his power- and swiftly decided against it; right now, the only person he'd trust his brother's safety with was himself.

If Peter didn't show signs of improvement later on, _then _he'd consider other measures; right now, it looked like the best thing they could do for Peter was give him time to get over the shock of whatever had happened to him.

He just wished he knew who Peter was talking about right now; maybe if he knew the name of the woman who'd left him in this state, it would help him figure out how to help his brother…

* * *

A couple of hours later, Claire sat on a sofa in the main living area of the new house- it was still too early to think of this place as anything but new- trying to focus on reading the book she had been assigned for class without letting her thoughts drift back to the subject that she should _not _be thinking about.

God, why had she been so _stupid_? What had she been _thinking_? If she'd just had enough strength of will to _stop _Peter from kissing her…

The problem was that she _hadn't _had the strength of will necessary to stop him. He was just…

God, when she'd seen him in the future after being terrified she was going to be trapped there…

She'd _completely _forgotten all her reasons why she shouldn't let him get too close and given into temptation like _that_-

"Where have you been?" a voice said, prompting Claire to glance up and see her dad standing over her, a solemn expression on his face as he glared at her that gave no indication how he really felt about his current line of questioning.

"I told you," she said, taking care to sound casual, "there was a cheerleading thing-"

"This soon after you've joined the team?" her dad interjected, his expression shifting slightly to convey a certain suspicion that could have been mere idle curiosity or something far more serious.

"They needed people-" Claire began (God, she _really _needed to work on her cover stories!).

"You go away on the same day that Peter vanishes and you honestly think I _won't_ notice?" her dad countered, his arms folded as he glared at her in a more authoritative manner.

"Peter's a grown man, Dad-" Claire started to say, knowing that it wouldn't help her case even as she said it;

"He doesn't know what he can do-" her dad continued, his tone making it clear that he regarded Claire as foolish for not taking further precautions.

"He _remembers_, OK?" Claire countered, standing up to better look her dad in the eyes (God, why did she have to be so damn _short_?), offended at the implication that she'd just let Peter leave on a whim. "He remembers who he is, he knows what he can do, and he's gone-"

"Gone _where_, Claire?" her dad countered, his voice raising as he glared at her. "Did you even bother to _find out _where he was going before you let him fly off to… wherever he is now? This isn't a _game_; your tiny rebellions are putting this family in danger!"

"_Me_?" Claire retaliated, finally feeling like she had reached the point where she wasn't going to take any more; she'd been put through the emotional wringer lately, and how her dad had the _nerve _to imply that she didn't _care _about her _family_? "What about you, Dad? You think any of us _really _believe that you were out at a _copy conference_? Where were you, out _abducting _people?"

It was only after Claire had said those words that she realised she genuinely believed that.

Even after everything he'd said about staying undercover and getting away from the past, she _knew _that her dad was still working

"What is going _on _down here?" her mom's voice suddenly said, cutting into the temporary tense silence that had settled over the two of them as she came down the stairs.

"What did Claire do _this _time?" Lyle added as he joined them, shrugging slightly in frustration.

"Shut _up_, Lyle!" Claire yelled as she spun around to glare at her brother; it was bad enough having to cope with her dad's disapproval, but Lyle didn't even know what it had been _like _trying to cope with the thought that there was some psycho out there trying to cut open her _brain_…

"It's not safe here any more," her dad said, turning to look at the two new arrivals with a resolute glare. "Pack your bags; we're moving!"

Claire was stunned.

He did _not _just do that…

"You can't do that," she said, moving forward to coldly stare him in the eyes as he turned back to look at her

"This is _not _a discussion!" he said, his tone the one that he had always used in the past when he was trying to make her do something she didn't want to do. "We're leaving!"

Somewhere inside herself, Claire felt something stretch dangerously close to breaking point.

She'd just seen a future where the human race was down to barely a fraction of what it had been because of some stupid virus, and she knew the name of the guy who was going to try and _release _said virus; she'd be _damned _if she was going to just stay here like a 'good little girl' with _that _kind of stuff fresh in her mind.

"Then you're going without me," she said, staring resolutely back at him. "I have to help Peter-"

"He _left _you here, Claire; I think it's clear he doesn't _want_-" her dad began.

With that comment, whatever had been stretched inside Claire's mind before was finally pushed to breaking point.

She didn't stop to think about what she was about to do; if she did, she'd never do it.

Before her dad- her trained, professional dad, the man who had hunted down and captured God-knew-_how_-many-people with abilities in his past, the man who had stood up to Sylar, Officer Parkman, and that 'Ted' guy- could realise what she was about to do, Claire had drawn back her fist and punched him in the stomach with all the strength she could muster. Even as she felt a couple of her bones break from the force of the blow- her hands were just _not _tough enough to deliver that kind of punishment without consequences-, she was pleased to note that her attack had paid off; since her dad hadn't been _expecting _an attack from her, he hadn't been prepared for it, leaving him winded and giving Claire just the chance she needed to knock the wind out of him.

It wouldn't put him down for good, of course, but that wasn't what she was after; all she needed was time.

Before Lyle or her mom could stop her- both of them were just that _bit _too far away to reach her and stop her that way-, Claire had charged past both of them and through the doors into her dad's new 'study', quickly shutting and locking the doors behind her before turning around to tear open the boxes containing the files he'd brought with him from the Company. It only took a few quick glances before she'd found the file she was looking for- "Monroe, Adam" certainly seemed like as good a place as any for Claire to start looking for information about what Adam might be up to-, quickly grabbing a few other files at random to make it harder for her dad to work out what she was doing before she turned to look at the nearest window.

_This is it_… she thought, tensing herself for what she was about to do. _No going back after this_…

Then again, as far as Claire was concerned, there'd been no going back since the moment she'd seen Peter Petrelli's bones resetting themselves after he'd tried to fight Sylar to save her; this just made it more definite.

Before her parents could get the door open, Claire, the files in her arms and her wallet in her pocket- she had _never _been more grateful for a breakdown; she'd been so busy crying she'd never taken the wallet out of her pocket, the men who'd put in quarantine having allowed her to keep a hold of it after her 'grandmother' had vouched for her-, grabbed her dad's chair and hurled it at the window, cracking the glass before she charged at it herself.

She didn't even stop to think as she felt the glass scratch her arm- she didn't want to risk anything happening to her eyes unless she had to-; as soon as she hit the ground, she rolled forward to leap back to her feet and continued running away from her house, her ears closed to her parents' calls for her to come back.

Maybe what she'd done was risky.

Maybe she'd just basically ruined her relationship with _both _her parents…

But she didn't care.

She had a chance to make a real _difference _for once, and she was _going _to make it.

She was going to find out where that virus Peter had mentioned was kept, and she was going to make _sure _that Adam Monroe didn't get his hands on it.

Everything else…

Well, she'd worry about that later; right now her main goal was just to find a taxi and get to the airport to give her time to figure out where to go next.


	15. Coming Together

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: Since Mohinder, Bob and Elle will be showing up in this chapter, I would like to take this opportunity to confirm that everything that happened to them, Niki, Micah, Monica, Sylar, Maya and Alejandro happened the same way it did in the original show; I don't like to change things in AUs like this until I have to, so anything that wouldn't have been affected by Peter's 'shift' remains unaltered. On that topic, as far as Ricky and that group go, assume that Will's attempt to take the money worked out without anybody getting too badly hurt and they were left fuming and low on cash but otherwise unharmed

AN 2: On a related topic, I would like to apologise for the delay in releasing this chapter; it took a long time to straighten out what I wanted to happen here in relation to what took place in the episode (Which is part of the reason why the Paire-involved revelation that would have taken place here doesn't happen; I relocated it to the next chapter because this one was getting too long and I wanted to upload something for this story soon, but the revelation I promised _will _be in the next chapter)

A Leap to Safety

As he blinked his eyes open, he registered three things about his surroundings.

Firstly, he was in a room he knew fairly well; it was the main lounge area of his family's house in New York.

Secondly, he was currently lying on a sofa in the lounge while still fully dressed, which at least made a contrast to the last time he'd woken up somewhere and couldn't remember how he'd gotten there…

Thirdly, two curious people were currently standing over him as he blearily blinked his eyes open, both of them people he recognised; another welcome change from his last experience-

As the memory of the last few hours returned to him, Peter couldn't help but swear as he lowered his head back down on to the couch below him.

"_Damnit_…" he groaned, staring blearily up at the ceiling above him; he'd been hoping at least the last few hours would turn out to be some bizarre coma fantasy rather than the perverted truth. "So much for _that_…"

"Pete…?" Nathan's voice said, Peter turning his head to see his older brother taking a couple of uncertain steps towards him, evidently uncertain about what to say to him after he'd been missing for so long. "Are… are you OK?"

"OK?" Peter repeated, briefly looking over incredulously at Nathan before he regained control of his emotions and stopped himself from going into a rant; the last thing he needed right now was to have to deal with Nathan wanting to beat him up for having fantasies about having sex with (_Making love to_, his subconscious mind corrected him automatically, as much as he didn't want to get into _that _much detail about his feelings) his daughter. "Yeah, just fine, except that I just recovered from Haitian-induced amnesia to learn that the guy who helped me escape that dump the Company stuck me in turned out to be some lunatic who wants to end the world-"

"Hold on; he wants to 'end the world'?" Matt interjected, looking at Peter with sudden renewed intensity. "Would that be… Adam Monroe, by any chance?"

Peter blinked in shock.

Whatever he'd been expecting Matt to say, he hadn't expected that the detective would actually _know _what he was talking about…

"You know him?" he said, looking in confusion at the detective.

"We've been… tracking his work; he's been killing the other founding members of the Company in revenge for them locking him up," Matt explained, his expression grim as he looked at Peter. "I don't suppose you can tell us anything else about him that we should know?"

"Aside from the fact that he has Claire's ability and is trying to find some kind of virus?" Peter responded, shaking his head grimly as he looked at the two men before him.

Nathan's eyes widened in shock.

"He has _Claire's _ability?" he repeated, looking at Peter with renewed intensity. "You're sure?"

"Saw him healing with my own eyes; trust me, he can do what Claire can do," Peter confirmed, nodding grimly at his brother even as he tried to force mental images of Claire from his mind; if Matt and Nathan were looking for Adam before this, he must be up to something beyond what Peter was aware of. "He tried to trick me into accompanying him to release this virus, but…"

He paused for a moment, trying to think of a way to say what had happened without leaving Nathan wanting to punch him- he had enough to deal with already without his brother wanting to kill him for having incestuous thoughts about his niece-, before he finally settled on something that contained at least some elements of the truth. "…well, it's all a bit hazy after that; he got away while I was… distracted-"

"'Distracted'?" Nathan repeated, looking sceptically at his brother. "Pete, you didn't even look like you knew we were _here _when-"

"Look, this _isn't _the time for this, OK?" Matt said, looking impatiently between the two Petrellis as they briefly glared at each other. "Peter, you just try and focus on seeing if you can remember anything; Nathan, right now we need to focus on finding where this Adam guy's going-"

"Couldn't we ask-?" Nathan began.

"We are _not _making her do that!" Matt began, cutting Nathan off mid-sentence with a cold glare. "I made that mistake once and it nearly got her killed; she's been through enough-"

"But she could-" Nathan began.

"I said _NO_!" Matt yelled, walking up and grabbing Nathan's shirt, hauling the other man to a point where the two men were practically nose-to-nose, Matt's eyes narrowed in cold rage as he glared

After a moment's tense silence, Peter looked uncertainly between the two men standing before him.

"Uh…" he said, clearly uncomfortable about his unintentional role in this argument but nevertheless clearly determined to say his piece now that he was involved, "sorry to have to interrupt this, but _who_ are you two talking about?"

* * *

As Noah Bennett stood in the middle of the living-room of his new house, his mind constantly torn between two choices for the first time in his life- he'd always _known _what to do in the past; even if later circumstances might have proven him wrong, at the time it had always seemed the right thing- as he tried to process what had taken place here the night before.

_Claire was gone_…

After all he'd done to try and keep her safe, she'd run away from home, leaving no clue about where she'd gone and no way to figure out what had happened to send her off like that; he might _think _that Peter had something to do with it, but that was only a guess at best.

And worse… no matter _what _action he'd tried to take to keep her safe… everything seemed to lead back to that picture he'd discovered what now seemed like so long ago but was really barely last week; Claire, embracing a man who looked like Peter, with his own dead body dominating the image.

He didn't believe that Peter or Claire would come all the way back here to kill him for no reason, of course- Peter wasn't that type of man-, but that still left so many other potential ways that things could turn out that way…

Not even the rest of the Series of Eight had turned up any answers; the one of Hiro Nakamura having a sword fight alone was enough to raise serious questions in his mind, but the picture of Mohinder firing a gun was enough to leave him feeling _very _concerned for his future.

Mohinder was in a difficult place right now; if the Indian scientist could be convinced that it would be best if Claire was returned to the Company…

Normally Noah wouldn't have considered that kind of thing- he'd been almost certain that he could trust Mohinder-, but then Peter had already vanished, and that was _before _he took the Haitian's cryptic comments into account; with his own life on the line right now, Noah was _not _in the mood for taking chances.

Noah didn't like to think about it too much; he had enough problems on his plate right now without bringing in theories and supposition to the party on top of everything else…

He just wished he knew where Claire had _gone_. Calling Mohinder and asking him to find Claire with Molly Walker was an option, of course, but Noah wouldn't have been comfortable with that at the best of times and things were only made worse by Peter and Claire's recent disappearances and the picture he'd found showing Mohinder firing at someone, followed by a shot of him lying dead.

If only he had some way of 'testing' his potentially former ally…

"You ever heard of a 'West Rosen'?" Sandra's voice said from off to the side, prompting Noah to look up curiously at his wife.

"Not off the top of my head," he replied, pushing the nagging feeling that he had heard that name before to the back of his mind. "Why?"

"I just got off the phone from the hospital saying that Claire dropped in there to visit him last night, and then left us as contacts- told them we'd know where to find his parents but she didn't have their number- before leaving again," Sandra said, looking in confusion back at her husband; he could only just see her frustration at the call not having been made earlier. "They just wanted to let us know that it's… still touch and go if he'll make it, but he should be fine if he gets through the next few hours?"

Noah could only stare silently at Sandra as his mind turned over what he had just been told.

Claire was checking up on a young man who had apparently been left in a hospital in poor condition.

She was concerned enough about him that she wanted him and Sandra to keep an eye on the young man in question even when she wasn't there to do it herself.

_So_, Noah mused to himself, nodding thoughtfully at the implications, _what are the odds that he was there when whatever happened to Claire and Peter to make them want to leave happened_?

It wasn't a perfect lead, he knew, but right now it was the best he had to offer without letting anyone else know what he was trying to figure out; Sandra had enough to deal with what with Claire having run away and Peter vanishing, he wasn't sure _how _she'd react to finding out that he was apparently 'destined' to die.

_Plus_, he reflected, a slight smile on his face as another plan occurred to him, _it gives me the _perfect _opportunity to see what Mohinder's been doing lately…_

If he could just set everything up right, he might be able to determine what side Mohinder was _really _on…

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialled a number that he had come to use fairly regularly in the last few months, but still felt as though he was dialling for the first time.

For the first time, he couldn't be certain that the faith he had in the man on the other end of this line was justified…

"_Hello_?" Mohinder Suresh's said at the other end, forcing Noah to push his doubts to the side; right now he had to focus if he was going to establish what he was trying to find out.

"Is Molly well enough to use her ability?" he asked, his statement brief and direct.

"_Why_?" Mohinder replied uncertainly.

"I need to track down a boy and I don't have time to run all over Costa Verde," Noah replied, taking care to make his voice sound rushed; the more genuine he sounded, the better the chance that Mohinder wouldn't suspect his true intentions. "His name is West Rosen-"

"_Are you OK_?" Mohinder asked. "_You sound_-"

"Can you do it or not?!" Noah interjected, taking care to sound frustrated (It actually wasn't that hard; without any information regarding Peter or Claire's current location there was no way to know how long he had until he was shot).

"_Yes, of course_," Mohinder replied after a moment's silence.

"And Mohinder?" Noah began, only to pause mid-sentence before he could finish it, realising that he didn't actually know what he could say at this point.

"_Yeah_?" Mohinder asked, prompting him out of his brief internal dilemma.

"Just… Thank you," he said at last, deciding to stick to the simple facts before he hung up the phone and stood up, his next course of action already decided.

If this was going to tell him anything about where Mohinder's loyalties lay now, he needed to confirm West's location…

* * *

"You're telling me this girl can… _find _people?" Peter said, looking curiously between Nathan and Matt. "And… there's _no _limit to who she can find?"

"Well, she told me once she can't find anyone who's dead, but that aside… yeah, pretty much," Matt confirmed, before he narrowed his eyes slightly as he glared at Peter. "But I already told you; we're _not _using Molly-"

"I'm not going to ask _her _to use her ability," Peter countered, a slight smile on his face as he looked at Matt. "I'm going to ask her to teach _me _how to use it."

Nathan blinked.

"_You're _going to use it?" he said, looking uncertainly at Peter. "You sure about that? I mean, last time I saw you-"

"I wasn't exactly the poster-boy for controlling my abilities, I know," Peter said, nodding briefly at Nathan before he smiled slightly, recalling those few brief days he'd spent with Claire teaching him how to regain control of his old abilities at a gradual pace, mastering each of his old abilities once again…

He shook his head slightly, forcing his thoughts back on track as he looked back at Nathan. "But that was then; I've been… getting in some practise since we last saw each other, and I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing. Just give me a chance to talk to Molly and get a handle on her ability, and I can do it; I'm _sure_ of it."

For a moment Matt and Nathan could only look silently at each other, clearly uncertain whether to go through with Peter's suggestion or how to feel about it, before Matt nodded once and looked back at Peter.

"OK," he said, looking pointedly at Peter as he spoke. "Just to make sure we're clear about this; you do _not _let her use her power herself, OK?"

"Sure," Peter replied, acknowledging and accepting Matt's statement. "So, how long until she gets back from… wherever she is now?"

* * *

As Mohinder stood at the corner of Verbena and Palm, he couldn't help but wish he had more of an idea about what kind of situation he was letting himself in for; so far _nothing _they'd tried had gone according to plan. Bob had gone to the school in an attempt to find any sign of Claire there- if they could talk to her on her own they might be able to convince her to help them without getting Noah involved in this whole situation-, but when that had failed to turn up any sign of Claire, under any kind of alias, Mohinder had been forced to go through with his original plan and actually try and talk to Noah himself.

As he saw Noah's silver car round a corner a short distance up the street and subsequently begin to approach him, he just hoped that he could make his point in a manner that his old partner would accept…

As the car stopped at the corner, evidently looking for West, Mohinder walked forward, opened the car door, and stepped into the back, settling down on the seat as Noah looked at him in the mirror.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, only a slight trace of surprise on his face.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," Mohinder said; he'd never been great at deception on short notice so it was best he get down to the point as soon as possible. "I only have a second. You _have _to listen to me."

"Are they forcing you to do this?" Noah replied, his tone an even one that could have meant he was feeling any one of a dozen possible emotions about this latest turn of events. "Do they have Molly?"

"Nobody is _forcing _me to do anything!" Mohinder countered, quickly bringing himself back under control as he looked earnestly at Noah. "I'm here to ask you to give us Claire."

As Noah turned to stare incredulously at him, Mohinder couldn't help but cross his fingers in hopes that he could make his point clear. "We need her blood."

"You've gone _native_…" Noah said, his voice low as he stared pointedly at the man sitting behind him. "Are you _kidding _me?"

"She'll be returned to you safe, unharmed," Mohinder replied, wishing briefly that he had a better idea of what made Bennet tick; how could he be sure that he was saying the right thing to win him over? "You have my word."

"No offence, Mohinder, but your word isn't what it used to be," Noah said simply; once again he gave no clear impression how he felt about Mohinder's actions.

"Claire is very important to the work we're doing," Mohinder protested; he couldn't believe how little faith Noah seemed to have in him. "She can save lives!"

"'Work we're doing'; you sound like me ten years ago!" Noah said, his voice raising slightly as he spoke. "This is what they do; they _indoctrinate _you! I _couldn't _have been more clear about this when you agreed to go in!"

"They're not who you _think _they are-" Mohinder began, only to be interrupted as Noah slammed the palm of one hand against his window.

"They're _not _getting Claire!" he said coldly, his tone making it clear that there was no opportunity for argument.

After a pregnant pause

"I have to do what I think is right," he said, swiftly pulling out a gun and aiming it at Noah; he wasn't entirely certain how to feel about the fact that Noah only slightly flinched at this latest turn of events, even as he raised a thumb to turn off the weapon's safety. "Start driv-"

Before he could finish the sentence, the left-rear door suddenly opened, prompting Mohinder to turn his head to look in the direction of the sound just long enough to see Sandra Bennett standing there before he suddenly found the gun yanked out of his hands by Noah, the weapon in question almost instantly aiming at his face before he could even blink.

"Now," Noah said, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he glared at Mohinder, "I'll make this simple; who's your partner?"

"… Excuse me?" Mohinder replied, trying to figure out what had gone wrong; he could just about guess that Sandra had known to enter at that point based on a signal- probably that bit where Noah slammed his hand against the window; he'd always struck Mohinder as a man who generally stayed in control in that kind of situation-, but how he'd known he'd _need _help was something Mohinder just couldn't figure out…

"Company policy," Noah replied briefly. "One of them, one of us. Where's yours?"

Staring at the gun now held before him, Mohinder swallowed slightly.

This had _not _gone according to plan…

"Her name's Elle-" he began.

"Elle Bishop?" Noah interjected, stopping Mohinder before he could finish was he was about to say.

"You know her?" Sandra asked, looking over at her husband in surprise.

"Oh yeah…" Noah said, nodding slightly as a slight smile crossed his face. "Which means I _also _know how we can stop her."

For a moment, as he looked at Noah Bennett standing before him, Mohinder wasn't sure if he should be more afraid of the consequences of having failed Mr Bishop or the consequences of having angered Noah.

* * *

AN 3: Just to clarify, between his phone call with Mohinder and their 'meeting' at Verbena and Palm Noah went to the hospital to confirm West's location and then received the call from Mohinder with the false 'address' for West; I just didn't bother writing it because it didn't really add anything to the plot and the part with Peter, Matt and Nathan is more relevant to what's happening next chapter.


	16. Revelations

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

As she sat impatiently in the van, her milkshake discarded as she impatiently drummed her fingers against the steering-wheel, Elle briefly allowed herself a moment to wonder how she'd allowed things to come this far; what was _wrong _with just smashing into the house and abducting that stupid blonde princess who'd left Peter so whipped he barely responded to her even after _months _in captivity?

Call her arrogant, but she just found something strange about a guy _that _determined _not _to go too far with her even when she offered him the chance to do so…

The sight of a black SUV driving down the street towards her car prompted a small, relieved smile from her; at least _now _it looked like she'd have something to do…

After waiting for a few crucial seconds to give Noah and Mohinder the chance to get out of the car- she'd rather _not _attack them in the car and risk zapping Mohinder; it might be fun, but her father would probably just get mad at her if she damaged their newest recruit-, Elle stepped out of the car, a broad smile on her face as she noted her old partner's expression as he saw her.

"Elle, huh?" Noah said, looking grimly at her.

"You know her?" Mohinder asked, his expression surprised even as he aimed his gun at Noah.

"Oh yeah," Noah said, nodding briefly.

"Hey, you!" Elle replied, smiling slightly as she held one hand before her back, generating electricity in it in preparation to knock the other man out (A bit excessive, she knew, but after the way things had gone the last time they'd met she'd take some _particular _pleasure in this…)

"_Now_!" Noah yelled, ducking down to the ground as she approached the car. Before Elle had time to process what had just happened- the fact that Mohinder had ducked as well raised a few questions-, a third figure had stepped out of the car, aimed a large gun at her, and fired at Elle, drenching her with water-

Elle screamed, her body reeling in agony as her own electricity suddenly seemed to envelop her, the water sending her power channelling through her own body rather than being released against her opponent. Before she could cut the power off, she vaguely registered a rubber-clad hand hurtling towards her face…

* * *

As Elle crumpled to the ground, Noah allowed himself a slight smile as he examined the rubber glove he'd quickly donned after Sandra had doused Elle with water; with her power temporarily turned on herself, she'd been distracted long enough for him to take her out with a quick punch while the glove protected him from the shock.

Before Mohinder could get back to his feet, Noah had already taken his next action, grabbing Mohinder's gun where the Indian scientist had dropped it and aimed it at his former colleague's head, a grim expression on his face.

"You lie to me, betray me, you _come after my daughter_!" Noah practically spat in Mohinder's face, his hands shaking slightly from rage as he aimed the gun at the shaken geneticist's face. "How'd you think it was going to end?"

For a moment the two men simply stared at each other, Noah's gaze harsh while Mohinder's made it clear that he wasn't sure how to feel about this situation, fear at the gun warring with uncertainty about whether Noah would actually shoot him-, until Sandra spoke at last.

"Noah…" she said, her voice low as she glared at her husband, her tone making it clear that she expected him to do what she would approve of rather than what he wanted to do at present…

Inwardly, Noah sighed in resignation.

He already knew he wasn't going to do… _this_… with Sandra here; it was the one side of her he'd promised long ago he'd _never _expose her to even if he'd erase her memory of it afterwards.

Changing tactics, he lowered the gun and fired a bullet into Mohinder's lower leg, leaving the man lying on the ground screaming and clutching his now-bleeding leg as he walked over to pick up Elle- no longer sparkling from her own electricity; one benefit of her power was that she could only consciously activate it rather than it kicking in on its own- before he turned back to the car, a grim expression on his face as he looked over at his wife (He wished he could take back what he'd done to Mohinder after seeing the expression on her face, but he'd been dealing with so much _crap _lately he was frankly relieved to have had a decent chance to vent it on _something_).

"This isn't going to be pretty," he said simply. "When we get back, I'm going to need Mr Muggles' doggie-bath."

* * *

While Noah planned his next action, he had no way of knowing that his daughter was currently sitting in the nearest airport after catching a rather expensive taxi ride, staring despondently at the files in her hands as she tried to figure out her next move.

Getting here without being found hadn't been particularly difficult, of course- her father might have been good at working with the Company but given his more limited resources these days Claire was confident that she'd managed to avoid him; she'd spent a few minutes running and had then caught a taxi from the street she'd stopped in all the way to the airport-; the problem now lay in what she'd do next.

So far the files on Adam Monroe hadn't turned up as much information as she'd hoped; there'd been some basic details about his powers- spontaneous cellular regeneration; nothing there that she didn't already know about him- and some points about his mental state- psychotic with a superiority complex-, but nothing specific that could help her work out what his next move was. Even if she'd been a psychologist, she hardly knew enough about his past to guess what he'd do next from that; the only thing here about Adam's life as a person was that he'd been sent to a prison facility thirty years ago for attempting to steal from the Company, and that was it.

_So much for this being easy_… Claire reflected, putting the paper she'd been looking over at the back of the file as she began to check over the rest of the paperwork. So far there was still nothing immediately relevant- a few more comments about Adam's mental issues, some possible references to his physical limitations (Particularly relating to the part of his brain that would need to be attacked to kill him for good)-, until her eyes fell on a file about a 'storage facility' located back in Odessa…

Listed as the location where 'Strain 138' would be transferred to 'after Monroe's actions'.

_If that's not code for 'where to hide a world-destroying virus after some whackjob tries to steal it', I don't know _what_ is_, Claire reflected to herself, a smile crossing her face as she studied the information before her.

_Paydirt_.

It wasn't exactly conclusive, of course- there could be any number of 'storage facilities' in existence which would contain that virus that Peter had said Adam was looking for, and for all she knew 'Strain 138' might be some kind of prototype and the one Adam wanted was developed later-, but this was the only lead she had right now, so she'd just have to go with it and hope for the best.

Even if it wasn't the one she was looking for, it might have some kind of information there that she could use to _find _where the one she was looking for was located…

Standing up and taking one last glance into her wallet- she'd withdrawn a couple of hundred from an ATM before she'd caught the taxi; even if her father worked out where she'd been from her credit card activity he couldn't know where she'd gone from there- Claire headed for the Departures area to purchase a ticket to Odessa…

* * *

"So… you can have _all _the powers you want?" Molly Walker asked, looking with wide-eyed astonishment at Peter as he sat on the couch beside her, the former nurse looking at the young girl before him with a soft smile. Matt had filled Molly in on Peter's presence and his request while he'd been taking her home from school that day and Molly had swiftly confirmed her willingness to help Peter, commenting how cool it was that somebody that powerful wanted _her_ help.

"Well, just the powers I've picked up from people I've met, but yeah, there's not much I _can't _do right now," Peter replied, smiling slightly back at Molly, unable to stop himself feeling at least slightly amused by her enthusiasm (He just wished he could stop picturing her with a rounder face, green eyes and darker hair; missing Claire was one thing, but imagining _that _was something he did _not _want to start thinking about!). "Anyway, I heard about your one, and… well, I figured, who better to learn about it from than from the expert?"

"Yeah, Matt said you think you've got it but you don't know how to use it yet?" Molly asked, looking curiously at him.

"Pretty much, yeah," Peter confirmed, nodding again as he flashed back to that brief sight of her during the Kirby Plaza battle- if he'd absorbed the intangible ability of that 'D.L.' guy who'd helped to save her it wasn't too out there to assume he'd absorbed Molly's ability as well- before he looked hopefully at her. "Think you can help me?"

"Sure," Molly replied, smiling back at him as she reached over to a nearby table and picked up a map of America that had been lying there, placing it between her and Peter before she passed him a pin. "It's easy; just think about the person you want to find, get a clear picture of them, and then…"

She shrugged slightly, evidently uncertain about how to describe how her power worked to another. "Look with your mind."

Peter nodded in understanding at her comment, taking the pin from her and sitting back slightly to better focus on the map.

"Start with someone when you know where they are; it might help you make sense of what you're seeing," Molly mentioned, prompting Peter to nod briefly as he closed his eyes, his focus automatically shifting to Nathan as a suitable 'test subject' even as he focused on the rush of almost paternal- uncle- _older-sibling_ affection he'd felt for Molly after meeting the young, enthusiastic girl now sitting before him (His relationship with Claire made it pretty clear that thinking of himself as an _uncle _to a young girl wasn't the best move, and part of the reason he'd started to think paternally was because he'd started picturing Molly as something she wasn't)…

With that thought, it suddenly all seemed to… _click_… inside Peter's head; it was as though he could suddenly see the entire country laid out before him, just like it was on the map, with Nathan's presence a dot on that map, a dot that he automatically focused in on with greater and greater intensity, going from simply being aware of him being in New York to knowing the street, the house, the apartment, the room…

As his eyes opened once again, Peter smiled slightly at Molly, nodding gratefully at her.

"Got it," he said, his smile only increasing when Molly smiled back at him. "Thanks, Moll."

"You're welcome… Pete," Molly replied, smiling slightly back at him. Peter hadn't even realised he'd shortened her name when he'd said it, but now that he'd done it he had to admit that he'd rather liked the response it had prompted; she really was a nice kid…

Shaking that aside, Peter turned back to look at the map, forming a picture of Adam in his mind as he closed his eyes and raised the pin to begin his search.

It was a bit harder this time, of course- for a moment he felt as though he was 'sensing' Adam in two places at once, one on the ground and the other in the sky-, but he was soon able to establish that Adam was currently in motion, heading for some location in Odessa-

Peter couldn't stop himself; as soon as the word 'Odessa' had crossed his mind, he found himself thinking of Claire, of the moment when he'd first met her, bumping into him in the corridor as he looked at that display about Jackie Wilcox-

He froze.

For a minute there…

_No_, he thought, shaking his head slightly as he tried to shake off the sense of conviction he'd just felt then. _That _can't _be right… it's _impossible_…_

But he knew it was.

Somehow- he wasn't sure _how _he knew; maybe some kind of instinctive knowledge that came along with Molly's power, maybe something about Molly's power being used by him when he had access to other powers that might have 'helped' it-, he could sense some kind of…

_Connection_ between Adam and Claire.

And it _wasn't _just because they were heading in the same direction- Claire seemed to be flying towards the same location where Adam was heading; he'd have been worried about that if it wasn't for the fact that there was still a good couple of hours before either of them would reach the place which seemed to be their destination-; this connection stretched back almost to the beginning of Claire's life…

Peter's hands clenched into fists as a resolution crossed his mind.

Something wasn't right here…

And he knew _exactly _where to go to get the answers.

* * *

As Elle blinked her way back to consciousness, she swiftly became aware of three things.

Firstly, she was soaking wet; someone had been spraying her with water to wake her up.

Secondly, she was tied to a chair by what appeared to be dog collars- _dog collars_ were wrapped around her _wrists_, for God's sake!- with her feet in a bucket of water.

Thirdly, Noah 'Asshole' Bennett was standing before her, leaning casually against a counter, looking at her as though she was nothing more than a spoilt child he was going to lecture.

"I need to speak to your father," Noah said, his tone grim as he looked at her, giving no indication that he feared the consequences of what she could do.

Despite her waterlogged condition, Elle couldn't help but allow herself a slight smile; she was _really _going to enjoy this…

"What do you think this is; my first day?" she countered, raising her hands to generate the electric 'ball' she'd been planning to hit him with earlier-

Only to scream in agony as, once again, her powers suddenly turned _against _her, the electricity being channelled through both the metal frame of the chair she was sitting in and the water that covered her. Elle couldn't help but scream as the power she had once so effectively wielded against others tore through her like fire, torturing and tormenting every nerve in her body…

"Stings like a bitch, doesn't it?" Noah said, giving no indication that he felt any guilt about doing this to her despite their old partnership after she finally managed to turn the electricity off, leaving her gasping for air and relief from the pain as she looked dazedly up at him. "I know all about your ability, Elle."

"You don't know _anything_ about me-" Elle retorted, the memory of what he'd forced her to turn Gabriel into giving her the strength to glare back at him despite the pain she was now in.

"I was there when your father first brought you in," Noah countered, moving away from the counter to stand more directly in front of her. "You were a normal girl; unicorns and rainbows…"

Elle had to give the man credit; if it wasn't for the fact that she was still his prisoner, Bennett could have almost sounded sorry about what he was talking about.

"And then they started the testing," he continued. "The human brain isn't built to take that much electricity. You poor girl…"

"My father would never let that happen," Elle countered; she might have been shaken from the electricity, but she _knew _her father.

"Your father was leading the charge," Noah stated, crouching down slightly to look her more directly in the eyes.

"I don't remember any of that," Elle retorted; she just wished that he'd get out of her face and do whatever he was going to do…

"No memories, huh?" Noah replied. "Kind of like someone… took them away?"

Elle froze.

_The Haitian_…

She'd seen what he was capable of; he'd practically been the Company _bogeyman_, everyone whispering amongst each not to cross the Company if you wanted to wake up remembering everything about your past the next morning…

Could her father _really _have… done _that_…?

* * *

"Why do you think I never let the company anywhere near Claire?" Noah continued, his voice lowering and his gaze remaining on Elle as he watched walls crumble, revealing the ugly truth that had been concealed even from her memory; her father saw her as nothing more than a tool. "I didn't want her to become you."

He stepped back and stood up, his arms folded as he continued to look directly at her. "Now I need your help to find her."

"And why… should I… help _you_?" Elle asked, glaring pointedly up at him; evidently, even after news that basically stated that everything she knew about her past was wrong, she was still trying to be the 'Company girl'.

"Because if you don't…" Noah replied, walking back over towards the counter where he'd been standing originally, subsequently picking up a water-balloon in his right hand as he turned back to face Elle. "Well, I think we both know what'll happen."

Elle instinctively winced, which was all Noah needed to know that he'd reached her.

She might not be a _perfect _ally, but she didn't want to get shocked again; that was all he needed right now.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice low but resigned to her fate.

"Basics first," Noah replied. "For starters, why does your father want Claire's blood?"

* * *

Looking up as she sat in the interrogation room of the police station, Angela wondered ideally what Detective Parkman had to say to her this time around; she'd already given him as much information as she felt comfortable providing him regarding the situation, but he'd always been a very tenacious individual…

Then Matt Parkman walked into the room, nodding briefly at the cop standing behind her before the other man walked out, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

"I've told you everything-" Angela began.

"You've answered _my _questions," Parkman said, nodding briefly back at her in response. "There's someone else who wants to talk to you…"

With that sentence, the air alongside Officer Parkman suddenly shimmered briefly, and then…

Angela couldn't stop herself from gasping.

"_Peter_…" she whispered, staring at her son in shock as he emerged from what she vaguely recognised from Company files as identical to reports describing Claude Raines' use of his invisibility.

"Hi, _Mom_," Peter said, his eyes narrowed as he glared at her. "What's Adam Monroe's connection to Claire?"

Angela's face paled.

No…

He _couldn't _know that-

"Know _what_?" Peter finished, continuing to glare at her as he leaned over to stare at her more directly. "What shouldn't I know about Adam and Claire?"

"Peter…" Angela whispered, looking shakily at him, wishing she could summon back her old strength. "There are things I can't tell you-"

"And there's things you _need _to tell me," Peter interjected, his expression retaining the same cold gaze as Parkman stood slightly behind them; Angela didn't even need to look to know that the cameras had been disabled for this particular 'talk', most likely by one of Peter's seemingly increasingly-limitless abilities. "There's a connection between them, and it's _not _because of their powers; what _is _it?"

For a moment, Angela thought about trying to lie, but instantly pushed that thought aside; Peter or Parkman would almost certainly sense the reality- or falsehood, in this case- of what she told them no matter how convincing she tried to make it.

This was it.

The moment she'd been praying would never happen… the moment that would see her son reach a point where not even _she _could know what he would do… had finally happened.

Taking a deep breath, she looked Peter directly in the eyes, and spoke the words that would change him for the rest of his life.

"Adam Monroe is Claire's biological father."


	17. Genesis

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

AN: The idea for the power of my original character here comes from the pages of "Spider-Man/Black Cat: The Evil That Men Do", just in case anyone's interested

A Leap to Safety

_God_… Adam Monroe groaned as he drove along the road, wishing he'd had more time to get the blood off his hands; he was _really _going to leave stains on the wheel no matter how hard he tried to clean them off…

It would have all been easier if Peter had come with him, of course- with that guy's mind-reading he could have found the virus's location far more quickly; as it was he'd had to waste a not-inconsiderable amount of time torturing Pratt until she'd given away just enough to let him know what he was after-, but he hadn't survived this long without anyone knowing his age by being incapable of operating solo; thanks to his long experience with people, he knew enough to work out what particular reactions meant what when asking questions.

It hadn't been easy, but once he had his hands on that virus it would _definitely _be worth it; all he needed to do now was get there before anyone else twigged… which, given Peter's undoubtedly-poor reputation among the Company after breaking out like that, would definitely take _quite _a while even if he _wasn't _a mess after remembering what he might have done with that cute little cheerleader of his…

Adam couldn't help but smile at the thought.

His daughter had won the heart of the man who was potentially the most powerful person on the planet…

If Peter hadn't been a complete idiot about how to use his powers- all that power and he still tried to use it to _save _an already ridiculously over-populated planet?-, he could have almost been proud of her; as it was, he wished she could have found someone who realised how the world really worked…

* * *

"_What_?" Peter yelled, vaguely aware of Matt repeating him as he slammed his hands on the interview table, leaning over to glare at Angela. "What do you _mean_, _Adam's _Claire's father?"

"I mean what I say; he is her biological father," Angela repeated, looking solemnly at the men before her. "I acknowledge that it is a shock-"

"Hold on, Bob told us that Adam's been locked up for the last thirty _years_; how can _he _be Claire's father?" Matt cut in, looking in frustration at Angela. "What, did you allow him… conjugal visits or something?"

"And risk him winning sympathy for his cause by convincing any of the women… involved with him… that his methods were right?" Angela countered, shaking her head as she looked back at the detective. "We were arrogant, but we weren't foolish; at least half of us were already suspicious about how loyal the other half were to Adam, and the last thing we wanted was any reason to give us _more _people to be suspicious of."

"OK…" Peter said, nodding thoughtfully as he looked at his mother- the reasoning _did_ make sense, even if he thought it a perfect example of how the Company should have destroyed itself years ago; how could something like that work when half the people involved didn't trust the other half?-, before he turned back to the central matter. "So… if you didn't allow Adam… guests… how can _Claire _be his daughter?"

"We hardly wanted to lose access to such a unique power as Adam's; his ability to survive essentially everything thrown at him was truly remarkable," Angela clarified, her expression still refusing to give away her feelings about the experiment that she'd once participated in. "His regenerative abilities alone had so much potential, but when considering some of the implications of what that could result in long-term- would he become resistant to certain types of death if they occurred more regularly, for example-, we knew that we had to find out more about his power…"

"And, since powers are normally passed from father to son- like I inherited my dad's ability-, you figured that the best way to get another example of Adam's power was to 'create' his kid…" Matt continued, looking uncertainly at Angela, clearly wanting to make sure that he understood what she was saying before he continued.

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Elle asked as she looked over pointedly at Noah, her new/old 'partner' sitting nonchalantly a few feet away from her, the water-bottle he'd carried on board with him casually positioned to point at her as they flew towards the old Primatech storage facility. "It _does _seem a bit of a stretch…"

"Peter broke out of the cells with Adam Monroe, Claire stole my files on Adam Monroe- along with others, of course, but Adam's the most likely target- and Adam Monroe's interested in unleashing this virus you told me about; seems like a pretty clear line of progression for me," Noah said simply (Elle _really _wished she could just punch the bastard, but he'd deliberately bought three seats and stuck her at the window seat just so that she'd take that much longer to hit him physically, and the second she started generating electricity he'd soak her). "I've read Adam's file; if he's out, he'll be after that virus."

"And the reason why your little Claire would be going there…?" Elle asked scathingly.

Noah shrugged.

"That's… complicated," he said simply (Which Elle 'translated' as meaning he had either no clear reason why that should be the case or he had a few ideas he didn't want to share with her; either way she'd get nothing more out of him in that regard). "Let's just say she… has her reasons."

Even as she settled back down in her seat, glaring in frustration at the back of the chair in front of her- the last thing Elle wanted right now was to start chatting with the man who'd turned Gabriel into a monster-, Elle couldn't help but wonder what the bastard _meant _by that last comment…

* * *

"Naturally we contemplated using him as a donor to impregnate one of us, but there were problems with that theory from the beginning," Angela explained, her tone almost disturbing casual as she spoke about creating a _child_ like it was nothing more than an experiment; Peter and Matt couldn't help but shudder slightly at the implications. "Of the founding members left active at that time, your father and I were the only ones married, and neither of us felt certain we could handle another child, particularly not at my age. The other remaining female members were another possibility, of course, but all of them were uncertain about their chances of successfully carrying a baby to full-term at this age…"

"But… if you wanted a kid with Adam's ability… wouldn't it-?" Matt began uncertainly.

"Powers on that scale require a certain kind of catalyst- just as you both only truly came into your abilities after that eclipse some months back; none of us were entirely certain how it worked but the timing was too accurate for it to be a coincidence-, and such a catalyst never occurs in the womb; it can only happen when an individual is independent," Angela clarified, looking pointedly at Matt. "Your abilities all achieved your full potential in the recent eclipse- your fathers were intending to devise some other means of triggering them before… events… happened that caused them to-"

"Stick to the facts; how can _Adam _be Claire's father?" Peter practically growled, glaring at his mother for trying to draw the conversation away from the central issue they were facing at present; he could worry about whatever agenda his father might have had some other time. "From what Nathan told me after I learned who she was, Claire's mother was this… 'Meredith Gordon' woman, and Nathan's _sure _he slept with her at the time when-"

"He did," Angela interjected, her expression more solemn than it had ever been before as she looked at her son. "It just… wasn't _his _sperm that fertilised Meredith's egg."

Peter blinked.

There was no _way _he'd heard that right…

How the _hell_…?

"Nathan… had _Adam's_ sperm?" Matt said, evidently equally unable to believe what he was hearing. "Why?"

"If we had used completely artificial insemination to create the child we ran the risk that the mother might some day express an interesting her child knowing its father; we had to ensure that there was no possibility for Adam to _ever _come in contact with the outside world," Angela explained. "We had yet to discover the Haitian at this time, and even if we had used him he could only prevent the mother from remembering the circumstances of the conception; he wouldn't be able to give her false recollections of a father. The only possibility was to set up a situation where we could create the impression that someone _else _was the father of Adam's child, and impregnate the mother in such a way that she would never know there was any possibility of someone else being involved."

"So… you're saying that you… _gave _Nathan Adam's sperm?" Peter said, suddenly grateful that nursing focused more on general care of a patient rather than in-depth diagnosis; the _last _thing he wanted was background knowledge to make the already-disturbing mental picture he'd just developed any _more _detailed…

"But _how_-?" Matt began.

"Dennis Grant," Angela replied simply.

"Who?" the detective asked after a brief pause, after determining that Peter didn't recognise the name either.

"A low-level teleporter," Angela elaborated. "His power didn't allow him to teleport himself- indeed, he couldn't actually teleport large objects or people- but he _was _capable of teleporting small amounts of liquid from one location to the other. It didn't seem like much at first, but he was able to work out ways of using it over time; he could teleport water molecules from the air around him in large enough amounts to give himself mouthfuls of water if he was thirsty, he could send poison into someone's system without them ever knowing he'd done it… and, of course, he could teleport the sperm samples we'd acquired from Adam into a 'suitable environment' for them to serve our purpose."

Peter and Matt simply stared in silence at that statement for a few moments, each trying to process what they'd just heard, before Peter finally broke the silence once again.

"You… had this guy… teleport Adam's sperm into _Nathan_?" he said, staring incredulously at her. "But-"

"We had to time it right, of course; if the sperm entered Nathan's system too early or too late it might not reach the egg in time, or be 'outraced' by Nathan's own sperm," Angela said (Peter was strongly starting to wish that he could just feel comfortable with letting go of his feelings and punching his mother for her attitude; how could she sound so _clinical _when she was talking about creating a _life_?). "But, in the end, when we took a blood test from Claire after her birth, it confirmed that we'd achieved our goal; she was Adam Monroe's daughter."

Sitting back slightly in her chair, she shrugged slightly as she looked at them. "After that… well, all we could do was wait until her abilities activated to see whether we'd accomplished everything we'd set out to do."

"And you never… _ever_… thought it _might _be worth mentioning _before _now… that she is _not _Nathan's daughter?" Peter said, his voice low as he tried to resist the temptation to punch something; now was _not _the time to vent his rage at his mother for keeping this particular revelation secret.

"I always considered her a kind of grandchild after the part I played in her birth; it seemed the best course of action at the time," Angela clarified, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at Peter. "It struck me as the best means of being sure to keep an eye on our subject; establish myself as a relative."

Peter couldn't help but shudder slightly at the casual way in which his mother had said that.

God… what _made _people become _this_ cold…?

He pushed that thought aside; thinking about how people could reach this stage wasn't going to help him stop Adam from unleashing that virus.

"Where is it?" he asked, looking pointedly at his mother.

"What?" Angela replied.

"The virus that Adam's after; the one capable of destroying almost the entire _planet _in just over a year if it gets out," Peter elaborated briefly, his gaze making it clear to his mother and his ally- it was too early to call Matt a friend- that he wouldn't take a rejection for an answer; he'd picked up what he'd come here to learn for himself, now he had the bigger picture to take into account. "Where. Is. It?"

"Odessa, Texas; Primatech," Angela answered after a moment's silence. "The virus you're looking for… it's Strain 138; it's kept in a vault underneath the main facility-"

"Not for much longer," Peter replied, turning to look resolutely over at Matt; the situation regarding the revelations about Claire would have to wait until later, and the address she'd just given him fit in with the direction that Claire and Adam had been travelling in when he'd… 'sensed' them. "Come on, we have to get going; we've not got long until everyone gets to the warehouse, and right now I'd feel a lot more comfortable breaking into Company property with more than just me."

Matt could only nod as Peter turned invisible and the two of them left the interrogation room, already wondering how long it would take them to get to the warehouse in this kind of time frame; given Peter's reluctance to try and teleport others until he was certain he'd remembered everything in case he was distracted at a crucial moment, flight was probably their best bet…

* * *

AN 2: I acknowledge that the above explanation for Peter not just teleporting there is a little flimsy, but I needed a reason for them to get to the warehouse at the last minute, and this seemed like the best option; at the moment Peter's still 'sorting out' his memories after his recent memory-loss, so he'd rather not risk teleporting others in case something happens that causes him to lose focus (Plus, I'm trying to establish a few limits to stop things being _too _easy…)

In any case, next chapter we're into the final stretch; Peter VS Adam, as the most powerful man alive clashes with the OLDEST man alive


	18. Shoot or I'll Freeze

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

As Adam looked up at the building before him, he couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought of what was coming up.

Oh, getting into the vault wouldn't be _easy_, of course, but he had a few updated Company passes he'd picked up from Maury- before that unfortunate incident with his son put him out of action, of course; children could be _such _trouble at times- that should make everything easier; one advantage of being locked up for so long was that nobody thought to tell the general staff what you looked like. There were probably only around a dozen or so people apart from the Company founders who knew what he really looked like, and the odds of any of them being _here_ at this time were slim…

"_Adam_?" a voice said from off to the side.

Spinning around, Adam blinked slightly in surprise at the sight of a familiar young blonde woman standing just behind him- he vaguely thought her name was Elle; at his age names started to blur a shocking amount-, before she raised her hands and launched a powerful burst of blue electricity at him.

Adam didn't even hesitate; with the reflexes that had protected him from many a head wound- the only thing he hadn't allowed himself to get killed by; it might only be a theory that a headshot could kill him, but he didn't want to find out-, he ducked down, pulled out the gun he'd acquired from Victoria's house, and fired it directly at Elle, hitting her right in the shoulder. Even as she fell to the ground, screaming in pain as she clutched at her latest injury, Adam was already moving his gun to fire at the other man…

"NO!" a voice yelled; turning around, Adam just had time to see that 'Claire' girl leaping towards him, in a manoeuvre that owed more to desperation rather than any planned attack strategy.

Once again, Adam barely hesitated; recalling that this girl's powers were the same as his own, he quickly spun his gun around- she'd given him _far _too much advanced warning to realistically take him off-guard; she must have hoped that surprise would work in her favour- and fired another shot, striking her directly between the eyes and sending her falling to the ground mid-jump.

"_Claire_!" the outraged voice of the third figure- Elle's latest partner; he wasn't too concerned about this guy, given that Company policy meant he'd almost certainly be a normal human rather than having any potentially threatening powers- yelled, prompting Adam to turn back around to glare pointedly at the man before him, his gun now pointing at Adam's head.

"You really think you can do it?" he asked, glancing briefly at the gun in his own hand as he smiled slightly at the man before him. "I'm pretty fast, after all-"

"You. _Shot_. _CLAIRE_," the other man said, his grip tightening on the gun as he glared at Adam.

"Yeah, I did," Adam replied, smiling slightly at the man before him (He didn't bother to feel guilty when he said that; given his daughter's feelings for Peter, it was highly unlikely he'd ever have been able to win her over to his point of view, and right now he had more important long-term issues to worry about than his own unnecessary offspring).

Then, apparently without even thinking about it, he raised the gun and fired it once again, striking the other man directly in the eye- those glasses really made for a _very _convenient target- and sending him falling to the ground, blood leaking from the hole where his eye had once been and no sign of movement as he lay on the floor before him.

In some ways, it was almost pathetic; was _this _the best the Company he'd helped found had to stop him?

_Ah well_, he mused, tucking the gun back into his pocket as he turned around to enter the factory before him, _at least it makes things easier_.

In a matter of minutes, his destiny would be fulfilled…

* * *

As he flew down towards the warehouse, his arms around Matt's waist as he carried the detective along for the ride- with Nathan nearby he essentially only needed to concentrate on maintaining his strength as his body automatically duplicated his brother's ability, and it was easier carrying Matt this way than having him ride on his back or something like that-, Peter's eyes automatically settled on the sight of the three bodies lying around the entrance, two clearly dead and one evidently injured but still alive, judging by the blood coming from her shoulder.

As soon as he'd released his grip on Matt after landing- Nathan setting down a couple of feet away from him-, Peter quickly examined the bodies. The injured one he swiftly identified as Elle- from what he could tell her injury was only a basic wound to the shoulder; sore, but nothing she couldn't recover from on her own-, while the other two…

His blood ran cold.

"_Claire_!" he yelled, hurrying over to pick up the still form of the girl he'd only just allowed himself to acknowledge his love for, blood trickling from a small hole in her forehead as she stared blankly ahead of herself, her eyes glassing over in death…

_NO_! Peter vowed, not even bothering to glance at the other body- he vaguely registered that it was Claire's father, but he didn't have time to think about that right now- as he picked up her body; he couldn't do anything for the older man, but Claire could still be saved.

All he had to do was be very, very, _very _careful…

Raising his hand over her forehead, Peter aimed his fingers at the bullet hole, concentrating for a few moments before he finally saw his objective; the bullet, moving at a gradual speed to limit any further damage, emerged from Claire's head to settle in between Peter's fingers, the hole almost automatically closing up even as Peter tossed the bullet off to one side.

For a moment, as Peter stared down at the small blonde figure he held in his arms, watching as Claire's eyes cleared and she began to breath once again, wishing that he could spare the time to tell her what he had so recently learned about the reality of their relationship to each other…

But he shook that thought of; as pleasant as those thoughts might be, if he didn't stop Adam in time, then the world that he and Claire had so recently witnessed would come to pass.

He wouldn't- he _couldn't_- let that happen.

All his life, he'd felt as though he was living in other peoples' shadows; now, faced with something that only _he _could do for the first time in what seemed like forever, he wasn't going to hesitate.

"Keep an eye on her," he said, laying Claire down as he looked over at Matt and Nathan. "I'll take care of Adam."

With that, he stood up, his feet rose a few feet from the ground, and he proceeded to turn and fly directly into the warehouse, his gaze fixed on a tall man with dirty blonde hair walking down the middle of the warehouse interior.

As Peter tore through the warehouse at full flying speed, he only just had time to register that everyone around him seemed to have stopped mid-motion before he found himself crashing into the short form of a man he was fairly sure he recognised, sending both of them crashing to the ground- Peter was just grateful he'd managed to slow his descent once he'd seen this guy standing between him and Adam; hit the guy too hard and he could have ended up splattered against a wall-, the other man's sword sent flying out of his hand as Adam turned to look at the new arrivals.

_So much for the element of surprise_… Peter mused, before he glanced down at the man he'd just run into and saw who it was.

"Hiro?" he said, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Peter Petrelli?" Hiro Nakamura asked, looking back at Peter in shock. "What are-?"

"_Carp_?" Adam yelled, prompting Peter and Hiro to glance over in Adam's direction, just in time to see him aim a gun in their direction, Hiro's sword now clutched in one hand.

Peter didn't spare time wondering why Adam seemed to recognise Hiro by another name- for all he knew Adam's insanity had affected his vision-; before Adam could do anything else, Peter stretched out with his mind and yanked Hiro's sword out of Adam's hand, promptly returning the blade to its rightful owner before he stood up to glare at the man before him.

"You used me," he said simply.

Adam shrugged.

"We're all tools of destiny, Peter; I'm just operating on a… larger scale than most people," he replied, an almost casual smile on his face as though he was certain he was going to come out of this confrontation victorious. "The world needs to start over again; God had the right idea with the flood-"

"You're not God," Peter interjected, raising both hands before him, one crackling with electricity as the other turned blue from the icy power he had so recently learned was part of Sylar's arsenal. "And you're going down."

Before Adam could respond to that statement, Peter- acting more on impulse than anything; he'd accessed both powers at once mainly to see if he could- thrust out the ice-wielding hand towards Adam, pinning his enemy to the opposite wall even as he automatically froze time; the last thing he wanted was to attract too much attention from Company employees.

"Whoa…" Hiro's voice said from off to the side, the young Japanese man walking forward to stare as Peter covered Adam's body in a rapid layer of ice, only halting when Adam had been frozen completely solid. "Cool…"

"Uh… yeah," Peter said- he briefly wondered if that word choice had been a deliberate attempt at a joke on Hiro's part, before he decided it wasn't worth asking and pushed that thought aside. "So… you know Adam?"

"Yes," Hiro replied, his tone brief and to the point in a manner that Peter had originally only heard from Hiro's older self during that first meeting in the subway train so many months ago. "What did he do to you?"

"He tried to trick me into helping him release a virus that would destroy ninety-three percent of humanity by this time next year," Peter replied- Hiro's comments at least confirmed that he knew what Adam was capable of-, before he turned to look at Hiro. "You?"

"He killed my father," Hiro replied simply.

"And?" Peter asked.

He didn't even need telepathy to know that there was more to the story than what Hiro had just told him; the normally expressive Japanese man was acting far too withdrawn for _that _to be his only reason for trying to find Adam.

"And…" Hiro began, pausing for a moment before he finished. "And he only began this path because I betrayed him."

Peter blinked.

"Huh?" he asked, looking at Hiro in confusion.

"After Sylar threw me away in Kirby Plaza," Hiro began, his gaze flicking briefly to look regretfully at Adam's unconscious form before he turned back to look at Peter, "I teleported away on instinct, and found myself back in Japan in the past- I later learned that I was in 1671-, and encountered Tazeko Kensei; you are aware of his story?"

"Kensei… wait a minute, wasn't he some Japanese hero or something?" Peter asked, looking uncertainly at Hiro. "I know Linderman picked up his sword for his collection…"

"Yes," Hiro said, nodding in confirmation at Peter before he continued. "Learning that Kensei was not the man history recorded him to be, I attempted to help him fulfil his destiny… only to learn that he, like the cheerleader, could heal himself."

Peter blinked.

_Hold on a minute_…

"Are you saying… _he's _Tazeko Kensei?" he asked, indicating Adam in shock. "I knew he was old, but…"

He shook his head slightly as he looked at the man before him. "_Whoa_…"

"I know," Hiro said, nodding grimly before he continued. "I tried to guide him along his true path, but…"

"You screwed up and things didn't work out that way, huh?" Peter said, placing a sympathetic hand on Hiro's shoulder.

He didn't know what his friend had done to result in things turning out the way he assumed they had turned out, but Peter was certain of one thing; the last thing Hiro Nakamura needed right now was someone reminding him of something he'd clearly prefer not to talk about.

For a moment the two men simply stood in silence, staring at the man who'd given them so much only to betray them when they'd needed him, before Hiro finally spoke.

"What now?" he asked, indicating Adam's immobilised body before them.

Peter paused for a moment, lost in thought at the implications that Hiro's comment had just created in his mind.

If this was any other man before him, Peter wouldn't hesitate to stand back and allow Hiro to cut Adam's head off.

Adam had lived for over four centuries… he'd seen so much of humanity… probably witnessed so much history taking place… seen so many of the horrors mankind could inflict on itself… and yet, in the end, all he could think of to do with his knowledge was _add _to that suffering by causing death on a _larger _scale.

If it were any other man, Peter wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

But this _wasn't _any other man.

The man before him had fathered Claire.

No matter what other acts of evil he'd committed in his life, he was also the only reason that Claire Bennet existed, bringing a light and life into Peter's world that he would otherwise have never known.

The fact that he was a part of Claire, no matter how little he might deserve to be- the fact that he'd _shot _her in the _head _did little to improve Peter's opinion of him- was the only thing keeping Adam Monroe alive right now.

Peter wouldn't- _couldn't_- kill the man who had been responsible- however indirectly- for giving life to the woman he already knew he loved.

Fortunately, his powers _did _give him and Hiro other options ways of dealing with the bastard…


	19. True Relations

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

For a few moments after regaining consciousness, all that Claire could focus on was the blinding pain in the front of her skull; what the hell had just _happened _to her…?

Then her eyes widened as she remembered _precisely _what had happened.

Adam Monroe had _shot _her in the _head_…

So how the _hell _was she still alive? The last time she checked getting shot in the head was the one thing that was probably _guaranteed _to take her out; it was kind of hard to heal from an injury when the object that killed her was still _there_, and _nobody _could have possibly removed a bullet that had gone as deeply into her brain as she _felt _that one had gone…

"Claire?" a voice said from off to the side.

Turning in the direction of the speaker, Claire wasn't sure how to feel when her vision cleared enough for her to see that it was only Nathan- he might be her father, but right now he was the _last _Petrelli she wanted to see at the moment- and Matt Parkman, crouching down alongside her with anxious expressions on her face.

"You OK?" Parkman asked, his gaze constantly shifting to her forehead no matter how much he was clearly trying to stop himself; reaching up with one hand, Claire wasn't entirely surprised when her fingers came away with still-wet blood all over them.

"Ugh…" she groaned as she sat back up, closing her eyes briefly the sunlight hit her- every time she woke up after a fatal wound she always seemed to spend a bit of time disorientated, but this one was proving to be a _real _pain-, only to open them at a sight she'd never expected to see; her father, lying on the ground only a few feet from her, a massive hole in his face where his left eye had been.

_No_…

It couldn't be…

She may have been mad at him for being a jerk about Peter, but that didn't mean she'd wanted him _dead_!

"D… Dad?" she whispered, crawling over- she was too uncertain about her balance to even _think _about standing up at this point- to where the body lay, reaching out to touch the already-cooling skin as she stared weakly at the form before her…

She touched it.

It was real.

Claire couldn't help it.

"_NO_!" she said weakly, tears almost filling her eyes as she stared at the sight before her. "No… no, he can't be… he _can't _be…"

"Claire…" a voice said from behind her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder; Claire had barely registered that it was Peter speaking to her before she found herself enveloped in his arms, her head resting on his chest as she sobbed for the loss of the man she'd never had the time to forgive.

_Time_…

Claire suddenly pulled away from Peter, looking resolutely at him despite the tears that still covered her face.

"Bring him back," she said, her voice somehow managing to sound authoritative despite the fact that she was still sobbing nearly uncontrollably.

"Claire-" Peter began.

"You've stopped Adam; you can do _this_," Claire said (She knew without needing to ask that Peter had stopped Adam from releasing the virus; he wouldn't have left that sick psycho in a position where he could track that thing down unless he was _certain_ he wouldn't have to worry about him later). "Just _bring my dad back_-"

"He cannot," another voice said.

Turning to look in the direction of the voice, Claire was briefly confused at the presence of the short Japanese man she'd never met before, but then she recalled what Peter and Nathan had told her about Hiro Nakamura- the time-traveller who Peter had originally met when his future self came back in time to tell Peter to 'save the cheerleader, save the world'- and realised that this must be the Hiro from the present.

Right now, though, Claire didn't care _what _he'd done for her in whatever time period he came from; all she cared about that he'd just told her she _couldn't _save her _father_.

"What do you _mean_, he 'can't'?" she said, pushing Peter away from her- she really should have done that earlier; even if it wasn't out-of-the-ordinary for people to seek comfort from their uncles, the way she felt when she did it definitely _wasn't_- as she stood up to glare at Hiro (Peter briefly noticed that the three of them, Matt and Nathan were the only people moving; Hiro must have frozen time for everyone else- including the still-injured Elle and the guards he could see coming out of the warehouse- to give them time to straighten out whatever they needed to straighten out). "He can- you _both_ can- travel in time; you can just-"

"My father told me something when I tried to save him," Hiro said, looking pointedly at Claire. "We have the powers of gods; that does not mean we can _play _God."

Claire paused.

_Did he just say_…?

"Your… your father died?" she asked, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassed; here she was, yelling at him, and now he was telling her that he actually _knew _what she'd gone through?

"He was killed by the one you know as Adam Monroe when I was trapped in the past," Hiro explained, his expression giving no indication of his feelings on the matter even as his brief tone made it clear that he had very strong emotions on this topic. "When called upon to speak at his funeral, I attempted to travel to the past to save him, but after I explained my reasons for being there, he refused to allow me to save him, reminding me that part of being a hero includes accepting those occasions when we _cannot_ take action. If we could go back every time things did not go according to the way we wished them to, changing them to suit our desires and hopes…"

He looked solemnly at her. "We cannot grow up if we cannot accept loss. If the world is in peril once more- as it was when older me came back to from the future to warn Peter Petrelli to save you-, such an action might be necessary, but to change time for one person…"

He shook his head. "We cannot do that; if we attempt to dictate what the world should be like in that manner, we will be no better than the villains we face."

For a moment, Claire could only sit in silence, looking between Hiro and the body of her father as she contemplated what the Japanese man had said to her, before Peter broke the quiet that had briefly settled over them.

"He came here to help you," he said, looking solemnly at her as she turned to look uncertainly back at him. "I don't think he always did things I'll agree with… back when he was working for the Company… but he _was _trying to help you when he came here."

He sighed slightly as he looked at her. "I know it doesn't make up for the fact that he isn't here any more… but I think that's how he'd have liked to go."

For a moment Claire couldn't speak, simply continuing to stare uncertainly at the body of her father, before she turned to tearfully face Peter again.

"He's… he's gone…" she said weakly.

"I know," Peter said, taking her in his arms once more, holding her close to him as she resumed her original cry, softly kissing her hair as she sobbed.

Neither of them would ever know precisely how it happened, but, as they sat there, Peter holding Claire while Matt, Nathan and Hiro looked on, feeling uncomfortably like voyeurs while still being unable to think of a decent reason for leaving, Claire's face tilted upwards and her lips met Peter's.

For a moment, the two of them barely even seemed to register what they were doing, Peter caught up in the kiss while Claire was simply caught up in the realisation that what she had sought for so long was actually happening once again…

Then she remembered why she _shouldn't _be doing this and pulled away once more,looking up at Peter with new tears in her eyes.

"No…" she said, forcing back the part of her that just wanted to give in to her desires and focusing on the reality of their lives. "We can't…"

"Trust me, Claire," Peter said, smiling at her as he reached one hand up to brush some hair out of her face- he barely seemed concerned about the blood that still remained from when she'd been shot in the head; her lips were clean, and that was all he cared about right now-, "we _can _do this; after all, you're not my niece."

Claire blinked.

"Wh-what?" she repeated, looking at Peter in momentary stunned silence at his last statement, wanting to believe it while simultaneously being unable to do so.

"You're not my niece; Nathan… well, let's just say he was essentially a living clinic as part of one of my mom's more disturbing plans and leave it there," Peter continued, shrugging slightly as he looked intently at her, a smile spreading across his face. "It's a long story that this _really _isn't the place to tell you, but trust me; you're _not _my niece."

For a moment, Claire turned away, staring intently out at nothing in particular, clearly trying to process what she had just heard, before she turned back to look at him with a broad smile. "You _totally _need to kiss me-"

Peter didn't need any further invitation; pulling Claire close to him once again, he wrapped her in his arms and continued to kiss her, the others sitting around them simply watching silently as the celebrated a love that they'd once been convinced could never be…

Then Peter pulled away, a clear expression of regret on his face at whatever had just crossed his mind.

"I'll be right back," he said, looking apologetically at Claire; it was as though, with what they had just shared, the other people around them no longer mattered. "I just have… something to deal with first."

With that, Peter stood up from where he had been holding Claire, stepped back, and vanished, leaving the rest of them looking in confusion at where the empath had been standing before turning to look at Matt, each of them quickly guessing that the telepath was the best person to ask what Peter was up to.

Matt smiled.

"He's gone to destroy the virus," he said simply.

Before Claire could ask what Matt meant by that, Peter reappeared, holding a small phial with a lilac stopper filled with what looked like dirty water in his hands, staring reflectively at it.

"I saw what this could do," he said, looking solemnly around at his assorted allies, the unspoken knowledge that Adam Monroe had nearly tricked him into releasing this virus hanging over all of them. "That ends now."

With that, Peter closed his hands around the phial, glaring intently at his hands as a brilliant white light flashed from between them, the empath tapping into the formerly-uncontrollable power of Ted Sprague as he focused all that energy onto the phial he held before him.

Finally, the light faded and he opened his hands, revealing nothing more than dust, which quickly blew away in the breeze around them.

"God…" Matt muttered after a brief silence, looking grimly at the warehouse behind them as he shook his head reflectively. "How the hell did we get to this? Your mother, my father… God knows what else they've done…"

He raised his eyes upwards in frustration. "How much longer are we gonna have to clean up their mess?"

"Matt," Nathan cut in, stopping the detective before he could go any further, "you're right. We've been used by these people, manipulated…"

He nodded resolutely as he looked at the same group around them. "But it's over. It stops here. No more secrets."

"You have a plan?" Hiro asked, looking at Nathan with a slight grin.

"Yeah," Nathan confirmed, nodding at the Japanese man. "We take this all public. We expose them for what they are, what they've done, that _they're_ the enemy."

After waiting a moment to let this sink in, he turned to look at Matt. "I want to have a press conference. Matt, I need your help; make sure everybody listens to me."

As Matt nodded, Hiro suddenly looked apologetically at the others.

"I am sorry, but… other matters… may prevent me helping you," he said, looking uncomfortably at Nathan. "My father's death…"

"Don't worry, Hiro," Peter said, nodding reassuringly at his friend. "You do what you have to do; we know how to find you if we need you."

"Right," Nathan said, looking around the warehouse one last time before he indicated Bennet's body, still lying nearby them. "We'd better get… him… out of here; we need…"

Looking over at Claire, he paused for a moment, clearly uncertain what to say about the man who had been the father to a daughter he now learned he'd never had, before he nodded resolutely. "We need to take him home."

As Claire smiled thankfully at him, another thought occurred to Nathan, prompting to look over uncertainly at Peter and Hiro. "On the topic of taking things away… where's Adam?"

Peter and Hiro looked briefly at each other, before Peter shrugged.

"He's… out of the way," Peter said simply.

None of those present bothered to ask for more information; the expression on Peter's face made it clear that, as far as he was concerned, Adam wasn't going to be a problem for anyone any time soon.

With that, Peter reached out to place a hand on Claire's shoulder, Nathan crouching down to pick up Bennet's body as Hiro placed a hand on him and Matt, before all six of them vanished from the warehouse.

* * *

Down in the distant south of the world, snow blazing all around them, a small group of penguins stood in front of a large ice-cliff, staring thoughtfully at the figure before them, the figure having somehow appeared on the side of the cliff where nothing had been before, along with at least a foot of ice in front of it.

If the penguins had been capable of thinking about such things as human clothing- or, indeed, if they had been aware of humans in the first place-, they would have noted that the figure in the ice before them was dressed in what was probably a once-fine dark suit jacket and trousers, with close-cropped blond hair and a high forehead, eyes staring out in frustration, fear, and more than a slight trace of pain at the world before him.

In many ways, the fact that the eyes still appeared to be moving despite the temperatures the figure must have been experiencing in his current situation would have been the most disturbing part of the picture before the penguins if they were capable of understanding it.

As it was, after determining that whatever the thing before them was, it wasn't a threat, the penguins just turned around and waddled away, leaving the man known as Adam Monroe to stare out in frustration from the ice that kept him trapped.


	20. One Shot Changes Everything

Disclaimer: I don't _Heroes_, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission

Feedback: I'd like it, trust me

A Leap to Safety

"What do you _mean_, you don't _want _me there?!" Claire yelled, standing up to look at Peter in frustration. "I'm not some weak-"

"Claire, I've never _thought _you were weak, so don't even _try _and use that argument, OK?" Peter countered, looking pointedly back at her as the two of them stood alone in the living-room of the Petrelli mansion; with Angela's current location a mystery, and her mother preferring some time alone to cope with her father's death, Nathan and Matt had concluded that the mansion was the best place for Claire to stay while they prepared for the press conference in Odessa, Peter taking her there while they set up the conference in the station (Hiro had returned to Japan to help out at his father's company, although he had also assured them that he'd be available if they needed his help at some point). "Hell, if it were up to me, I'd _love _to have you there, but Nathan…"

"What?" Claire asked, looking critically at Peter. "What _about _Nathan?"

"Well…" Peter began, the expression on his face making it clear that he didn't want to have this particular conversation before he continued. "Look, as Nathan explained it to me… well, what we're about to do is going to bring a lot of attention down on us, so he thinks it'll be easier if we look more like the 'innocent' parties in our dealings with the Company- make us out to be more clear-cut 'heroes', you know- rather than make some of our more… difficult… actions these last few months public…"

"Like the fact that the most powerful guy alive is in his twenties and yet dating a teenager, huh?" Claire asked, shaking her head in frustration.

She wasn't sure what annoyed her more; the fact that Peter was actually agreeing with Nathan on this issue, or the fact that she couldn't help but see things from his point of view as well.

After all, she _was _only sixteen; compared to what some of the others had done since their abilities appeared, she really hadn't been through _that _much.

Having to pull that shard of glass out of Peter's head or seeing her adopted dad's dead body- particularly after learning that he was shot by her _biological _dad; she still couldn't quite get her head around the idea that her real father was over four hundred years old- might have been difficult, but she still hadn't actually _done _anything major with her ability; in the end, Nathan had been the one to stop Peter from destroying Kirby Plaza when he nearly went nuclear- something that still gave her nightmares even after he'd returned to her life-, and even during the latest 'Adam' crisis she hadn't done anything more dramatic than-

"Stop that," Peter interjected, cutting off her train of thought as he looked at her.

"You _know _I don't judge you because you're younger, Claire, and I don't think you're weak or anything because of that; it's just that… well, as Nathan pointed out, other people _are _going to judge us because of that, and we need to-"

"Look as much like the _completely _innocent and 'pure' 'good guys' as possible," Claire finished for him, looking at Peter with a look that combined frustration with understanding. "I… well, I get that, I guess; I'm not exactly _happy _about it, but… I'll deal with it."

"Thanks," Peter said, smiling at her with a small smile that did little to conceal the pain in his eyes at the course of action they were committing themselves to.

They'd barely even started to really explore their relationship with each other after learning their feelings weren't as wrong as they'd believed, but they were _still _hovering on just the wrong side of legality to make the idea of making the relationship public something that not everyone would accept if they didn't know more about them…

They might not be related like they'd once believed they were, but Claire was still a teenager attending high school while Peter was in his late twenties; it might not be a serious 'crime', but it still wouldn't exactly help them to encourage the general public to regard them as the 'good guys' and the Company as the villains if one of them was dating a minor.

"Damnit…" Claire muttered, rolling her eyes in frustration before she turned her gaze back to Peter. "Look, just… come back quick, OK? If we're going to have to start lying about… what we are… for a bit, I'd like _some _time with you before we have to keep it all hidden."

Smiling reassuringly at her, Peter bent over to give her a quick kiss before pulling back, a casual smile on his face as he looked at her that he didn't think had been there since the moment he'd first learned about his powers.

"With an offer like that in mind?" he replied, smiling at her with that casual grin that he knew she liked to see him assume. "_Nothing _could keep me away."

With that, he closed his eyes and vanished, leaving Claire standing alone in the mansion for a moment as she looked reflectively at where he'd been before she turned around to head for the kitchen; if she was going to be hanging around here a while longer, she was going to make herself something to eat.

* * *

As he reappeared in the Odessa police station where Nathan had arranged to hold the press conference, Peter smiled slightly at the sight of the familiar walls around him.

His first night here might not have been one of his best memories- according to some of Nathan's later conversations with Mohinder while he was in that coma after leaving his body had basically been going into overdrive trying to process all the powers he'd been tapping into after being so close to Sylar, Claire, Matt and Nathan, leaving his body practically exhausted from the strain of what it had been through-, but it had been the place where he'd been properly introduced to Claire, powers and warm personality and all.

Even if the timing had sucked and his health hadn't been that great, he'd always remember that brief conversation he'd shared with her in his cell; he'd found her pleasant company when she was just another girl at a school, but when he'd seen her in that cell, so relieved to learn that she wasn't alone, calling him her hero after he'd spent his life being nothing but 'Nathan's brother' to virtually everyone who knew him…

In a way, it had been the most incredible moment of his life; at last, he'd met someone who he knew for a fact appreciated him for being _him_, rather than for who he was related to…

As he saw various assorted journalists and news staff either gathered or heading towards a large conference room at one end of the corridor he now stood in, Peter briefly glanced over at the rooms around him before his gaze fell on a slightly open glass door, Nathan's usual expensive suits a sharp contrast to the policemen sitting at their desks and Matt's more basic jacket and trousers.

"Hey," he said as he walked into the room, nodding briefly at the policemen around him before his gaze returned to his brother and his friend.

"Things go OK with Claire?" Nathan asked, looking curiously at his brother.

"Not _exactly_ happy about it, but she gets why we're doing things this way for the moment," Peter replied, nodding briefly at Nathan before he sighed, glancing out of the window at the reporters gathering outside.

"That's her; are you sure _you're_ all right with this?" Nathan asked, looking uncertainly at Peter.

"Yeah, I guess… it's just… all a bit overwhelming, really," Peter replied, nodding slightly at Nathan as he spoke, gazing in a thoughtful manner at the room full of journalists before them. "I mean, a few months ago I was just another nurse, and now I've got all these abilities, I'm dating a girl who can heal herself, and we're about to denounce a secret organisation that's been monitoring people like us for who knows _how _long…"

He smiled slightly as he glanced back at his brother and his friend. "It's… well, I'd like to say 'incredible', but even _that _doesn't quite fit; when I think back on what I was like before…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean; it's almost impossible to even _recognise _who I was before I got my abilities," Matt said, looking over at Peter with a slight smile before he glanced back at Nathan. "Anyway, we'd better get on with this; Peter may have stopped Adam, but we're going to need you if we're going to stop the Company. They're all ready to listen to you; all you have to do is start talking."

"Sure thing," Nathan said, nodding briefly at Matt before he turned to look at Peter. "You got us this far, Pete; it's my turn now."

After a brief exchange of smiles and hugs, the Petrelli brothers stepped back slightly from each other before Nathan walked towards the small podium that had been erected for his current announcement, the symbol of the Odessa sheriff just behind the podium and two American flags on either side of it. As Nathan stood behind the podium, Peter and Matt took up position on either side of him, keeping a subtle eye on the crowd before them in case anything went wrong even as they both hoped urgently that it wouldn't.

"Good afternoon," Nathan began, pausing for a moment as he apparently swallowed- whether he was actually uncertain about what he was doing or just creating an impression to earn increased sympathy from his audience Peter wasn't sure- before continuing. "Most of you have no idea who I am. My name is Nathan Petrelli, and I was elected to Congress in the State of New York. Seems like a long time ago."

For a moment, Nathan paused, looking down at the podium briefly, apparently overcome with the memory of the emotions he'd been feeling at that time in his life, before he continued to speak. "I lost my position. I lost my brother. I lost my family. I'm sad to say that I lost my way. But while I was gone, I had the chance to see the world through newly humbled eyes."

As Peter and Matt watched, Nathan's voice grew more confident, the politician easily moving past his own pain to focus on his admiration of the others. "I've witnessed… _amazing_ things. I've seen ordinary people among us, trying their best each day to be heroes. These ordinary people- like you, like me- are capable of extraordinary things. You have no idea ... how extraordinary."

Nathan paused again, looking resolutely around at the press officials before him to make sure they understood what he was saying, before he continued. "But there are other people, organizations, who don't want you to know the truth; I myself kept secrets. But last year…"

Again Nathan briefly paused, allowing himself a brief smile before he looked back at his audience, his expression solemn as he recalled those dramatic events surrounding the near-destruction of New York. "Something incredible happened to me… and it changed my life. At first, I was afraid. But I'm- I'm not afraid anymore. I'm here to tell you the truth."

Looking down once again, Nathan briefly bit his lip in preparation for the moment when they would change everything, and then looked back up once again. "I have the ability-"

Before Nathan could continue, a gun went off twice, leaving Nathan's shirt holed twice on either side of his red tie. Peter and Matt automatically grabbed Nathan as he fell backwards, Peter barely registering the screams of a woman in the audience or the sudden flurry of activity around him as he stared in horror at the still form he now held in his arms, Matt standing anxiously over them both as he desperately yelled his brother's name regardless of the increasingly-blank stare he was receiving in return…

* * *

AN: Well, that's that done; we'll get back to this universe as soon as I've got access to Season Three of "Heroes"- in video and script form- and can thus accurately combine what happened originally with what will happen in _this _reality (I like to be sure I know what I'm changing in an AU of this scale).

Obvious differences between what I'll write and what happened?

Well… as a slight spoiler, let's just say that Peter's time in the future in this reality will see him accessing a couple of powers we never saw _either _of him demonstrate in the series…


End file.
